Shades of Gray
by CoronachGW
Summary: Sylar fic set after The Hard Part. Sylar finds himself powerless and inexplicably wakes up halfway across the country. As unanswered questions pile up, he soon finds himself on the run for his life. Possibly OC pairing. Redemption story. RR please :!
1. Gray Awakenings

"_Everyone is necessarily the hero of his own life story." -- John Barth_

**Chapter 1: Gray Awakenings**

Sylar awoke quite abruptly. The first thing he realized was that his bed was very uncomfortable. It felt as hard as –

_"A rock?", _he thought to himself, _"where am I?"_

Getting his bearings, he sat up and looked about. He was, though inexplicably to him, on a stone bench in a park.

It was early in the day – likely 5:00 - 6:00 am – and the day was already showing signs of cloudiness and gray. A cold chill whistled through the October trees, and Sylar realized just how cold it was this particular morning. Pulling his knees up to himself, he began running over the situation in his head.

He remembered New York, Ted Sprague, Peter Petrelli, and the bomb.

"Boom", Sylar muttered in mock reminiscence.

The blinding flare of crimson fiery flashed in his memory. He remembered the beauty of the searing mushroom cloud; the soft, low rumbling of the explosion as it leapt along its destructive path. And then, as if a roll of film had reached its end, Sylar's memory reached a void. His next memory was that of five minutes prior.

He didn't understand. One minute he was bearing witness to the great explosion, and the next he was waking up on a public bench like (to his supreme disgust) a homeless person.

The wind picked up again, and Sylar noticed that, though the sun was rising, the sky was overcast with a somber, gray hue. It looked to be the start of a cold and dreary day.

_"How fitting"_, Sylar thought to himself, as he turned away from the increasing wind and huddled even tighter to the cold, stone bench.

He breathed deeply and let out a sigh before he found himself nodding off to sleep; eventually succumbing to the darkness of slumber. A facade of a homeless man would suit him for now.

* * *

He next awoke to the annoying sounds of giggling children and a no longer idle park. The wind was milder now, though it was definitely a cold day nonetheless. 

Sylar realized that, for whatever reason he was here, he need to get _out_ of here and back to his own apartment; he'd figure the rest out from there.

He rose from the bench and looked around. Nothing looked inherently familiar, and he had no idea which way to embark. As several kids ran by, an idea came to his mind. Seeing his chance, Sylar seized the opportunity.

Grabbing one of the passing children, he ordered, in a mild harshness, "Point to the exit, brat."

The poor boy, obviously frightened, shrieked and pointed to the east.

"Thanks squirt," Sylar replied insincerely as he released the child, who promptly ran back to his friends screaming.

Sylar then proceeded, hands in his pockets, toward the exit of the park, and hopefully toward some answers.


	2. Epiphany

"_He who never made a mistake never made a discovery." -- Samuel Smiles_

**Chapter 2: Epiphany**

The park, after all, ended up being quite large, and it took Sylar nearly twenty minutes to reach the exit.

_"Kid probably pointed to the furthest entrance,"_ Sylar thought, _"no matter."_

Sylar continued out of the park and onto the bustling streets of the city. As he left the park behind, he glanced to his right and stopped flabbergasted. According to the park sign, he had just left "Grant Park... Nassau County, Chicago."

"Chicago?" Sylar asked himself in disbelief, "impossible!"

His mind was reeling. Chicago? How could he be in Chicago? That had to be almost 800 miles away! This entire situation made no sense, and hundreds of scenarios played over in his head; the scene made even more confusing by the swarm of people charging and bumping him about.

Unsure of what to do now, he joined the throng of people and began walking deeper into the city.

Another twenty minutes later, Sylar was sitting in a local café trying to sort this mess out. The joint was fairly empty and, for a big city, there was really nothing notable going on.

It's not as if Sylar was scared. He had far too much power for that. Rather, he was more concerned with the hampering this had put on his plans in New York. And, as if he hadn't enough problems already, he had a distinct feeling that something was...off.

"More coffee, sir?" the waitress asked, giving off a sickening air of joy and bubbliness.

"No, thank you," Sylar replied.

It was times like this that reminded Sylar of why he hated the world so much; people like this waitress. They go on with their insignificant little lives, completely content with never accomplishing anything noteworthy, and utterly oblivious to what's really going on in life.

_"Pathetic"_, Sylar thought.

As he finished his coffee, Sylar got up from the chair and headed out into the cold Chicago day once more.

The sky had become increasingly dark, and the wind had picked up significantly; suggesting that a storm was on the way.

Sylar walked down the busy streets of downtown Chicago, hurrying along in his pace yet still unsure of where he was headed. The nearest airport – _"as if I could afford that right now"_, he thought – was god knows where, and a bus station could be miles off.

_"Maybe there's some decent powers to acquire while I'm here"_ , he thought to himself, yet, even if there were, he'd never find them in this foreign city.

Sylar continued walking without much care as to any particular directions of travel. As he turned into an alley, the rain began its torrential downpour. He ran his fingers through his short, wet hair, and breathed a heavy sigh.

"_I'm getting soaked, I'm tired, cold"_, Sylar listed in his mind, _"and I'm suddenly surrounded by some rather dangerous looking peo – what?!"_

Having not been paying attention, Sylar snapped out of his reverie and found his heart was racing. Around him, in the dark and coincidentally isolated alleyway, were several – he counted six – menacing figures. They were all grinning maliciously, and one had apparently been talking to him for a few moments now.

"I'm not gunna' ask ya' again man," one of them began, "what the hell you doin' on our turf?"

Sylar had to admit, he was slightly amused by these neanderthals. They sure were confident in their arrogance.

"Spare me the part where you act like you're in control, and maybe you'll remain alive," Sylar retorted cooly.

"Ooo, we got a cocky one here," the brute replied, inciting laughter from his gang.

Sylar merely grinned and replied, "it's idiots like you who inhibit people like me; people that matter."

"He-he," the brute laughed, "big talk fur' an outnumbered little man."

Sylar had been waiting for a moment like this since he'd woken up today. TK practice was always a good thing.

"By all means then, please indulge me," Sylar replied, baiting the man.

The man cracked his knuckles and charged Sylar. Responding casually, Sylar lifted his hand to TK the man. A moment later, Sylar was thrown, clean off his feet, into a nearby garbage can pile.

_"What the hell?" _Sylar thought to himself, now panicked.

He staggered to his feet just as he saw the man approaching him again. This time, Sylar had more time to react. He lifted his hand and concentrated hard. His reward was that of a hard fist to the face.

Sylar keeled in pain. His vicious was blurred and his nose was bleeding.

"Not so tough now eh'?" his attacker jeered as he descended upon Sylar.

Almost instinctually, Sylar kicked out hard and caught the man straight in the face. Sylar was even more panicked now, but it soon faded an instant later when the angry brute and his gang leapt on him with fury.

Sylar writhed and pleaded for them to stop, but the blows continued. He knew it was his own fault, yet he tried continually in vain to repel his attackers. Kicks to the head, face, ribs, and groin rained upon him with awful ferocity. He tried to scream out for help but a blow to the throat quickly silenced him.

As the pain raged, the darkness washed over him and he began to slip into unconsciousness. In his last few moments, he realized how suddenly and literally powerless he was like this; how...insignificant...and alone.


	3. Pondering

1"_Change your thoughts and you change your world."Norman Vincent Peale_

**Pondering**

Sylar's eyes sprung open, and he was met with a blinding sunlight. Shutting them quickly again, he laid there bracing himself for the inevitable rush of pain; it never came. Intrigued, Sylar sat up and opened his eyes once more. No injuries; he had no injuries. No bruises, cuts, broken bones, nothing.

"What...is going on?" Sylar asked himself.

"Awful not being in control, hmm?" a voice behind him mused, causing Sylar to whip around.

Standing before him was a young man, no more than 20 years old, Sylar guessed, and he noticed a familiarity about him. He couldn't place the face though.

"Who are you? Why are you here–", Sylar began.

"I think the better question here is why haven't you noticed where you are yet?", the man stated.

Looking around him, Sylar realized just what the man meant. He was in what appeared to be a desert, and the dunes surrounded him on all sides.

"Where?" Sylar began.

"Ahh, intrigued are we?", the man began, "Come Gabriel, follow me."

"My name is Sylar", Sylar replied irritated.

"Yes, of course, this way please", the man said, walking away dismissively.

Sylar felt ready to explode. He had no TK – and no other powers he'd realized moments ago – and he was inexplicably being zipped around the world to seemingly arbitrary locations.

"Tell me Gabriel, what are you thinking right...NOW?" the man asked dramatically.

_"Ugh, that name again"_, Sylar thought.

He hated that name. It was a constant reminder of his past. He was weak then; he'd grown...evolved since then. He was powerful now, and he'd get even stronger soon enough.

"Come now, don't keep me in suspense", the man joked aloud.

"As if you care, I'm sure your mind's made up on me as it is", Sylar replied dryly, "whoever you even are."

"Well can you blame me?" the man asked in response, "we insignificant people can rarely understand the workings of those that matter."

The man paused for a moment and stared at a large dune in the distance. It was at this point that Sylar noticed the distinct features of the man. He was about Sylar's height – perhaps a bit shorter – and he had short, dark-brown hair with oddly-red highlights. Even more strange was a vaguely familiar "S-shaped" tattoo on the man's under-forearm.

"After all", the man began again, "we can't all be the hero."

"Can you please just get to the point?" Sylar asked, annoyed.

"Why, of course", the man began again, "First, Mr. Gray, why do you murder innocent people?"

Sylar was taken aback by the sudden question, and hesitated before answering.

"Those people didn't deserve their powers," Sylar stated simply, "they served no purpose, and didn't deserve to live."

"Ah, right," the man started with an air of sarcasm, "and you _certainly_ have the right to decide that _for_ them."

"What do you even want?" Sylar snapped back angrily.

They had been walking for a bit and suddenly, the man stopped and spoke once more.

"You're worse off than I originally thought, Gabriel", the man informed, "So much further to go."

"For the last time", Sylar seethed, "my name is–"

"As such", the man began, completely ignoring Sylar, "I am quite excited to see how the path unfolds before you."

Turning toward Sylar, he continued, "the gifts of life are so often wasted on those that do not truly deserve them...pity."

"Wh–what do you mean?", Sylar asked, "Where am I? What happened to my powers? And why do you keep calling me Gabriel?"

He felt powerless, and he hated it. All the weak aspects of his past were flooding back. He needed to be in control; needed to be the one in power.

"Time will tell, I'm sure", the man said, "but do remember this."

"And what's that?", Sylar asked, frustrated.

"The road less traveled is not always the road _best_ traveled", the man said simply.

"Right...anything else?", Sylar asked dismissively.

The man merely smiled and replied, "I hope you enjoyed your rest."

And with that, the man's eyes ignited in a deep, fiery color, and a powerful shockwave launched Sylar back as his surroundings exploded with crimson fury.

The blinding flare of light forced his eyes shut once more, as he sailed through the air before landing on a surprisingly soft surface.


	4. Battered and Bruised

1"_With most men, unbelief in one thing springs from blind belief in another." _

_– George Christoph Lichtenberg_

**Battered and Bruised**

Sylar's first realization was the sheer soreness he felt. Everywhere hurt. His ribs, chest, and throat ached enough that it was difficult to breathe, and he figured that moving would do nothing to help the matter. He also noted that one of his legs was wrapped in something, as well as both of his arms and his head.

Opening his eyes, he slowly took in his surroundings. He was in a hospital bed, and his room was dark due to the shades being pulled. Thin beams of light sliced through the openings, and Sylar was able to look at his current condition. He discerned that he looked even worse than he felt. His arms were both wrapped in white casts – as well as his left leg – and he noticed how bruised his fingers looked. He could tell that his head was wrapped in some type of bandage, and he had a strange feeling that his nose was broken. All in all, he felt as if he'd been steam-rolled multiple times and then re-inflated to be thrown against a brick wall.

Carefully, as to avoid too much pain, Sylar turned his head to the left and right in hopes of figuring out his situation a bit more. Yet, aside from a food tray near his bed and a T.V. in the corner, there was nothing of importance. There were two chairs near the window, and another near his bed with a coat on it, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Sylar laid his head back and sighed deeply. Concentrating on the chair near his bed, he tried to move it with his mind but closed his eyes in frustrated failure moments later.

"_So I was just dreaming", _thought Sylar conclusively_, "but where am I now? Where are my powers? Why...me?"_

Sylar groaned as he shifted his position and laid his head to the side, hoping to fall asleep.

_"Nothing better to do now anyways,"_ Sylar thought glumly.

Then, as if on cue, Sylar heard his room door open. Opening his eyes he saw, to his surprise, a blonde woman enter carrying a coffee and a large bag.

Noticing Sylar was awake, she smiled and said, "Oh, you're finally up!"

"Who...are you?" Sylar asked, confused.

"Oh", the woman laughed, wide-eyed at her oversight, "I'm Sarah."

The woman was young – mid twenties Sylar guessed – and, due to her rather full hands, waddled across the room in a rather clumsy manner toward his bed.

Sylar couldn't help but grin at the sight and he watched as Sarah crossed the room, set the bag down on the chair with the coat, and turned back toward him.

"So, how are you feeling?" she asked sincerely.

"Probably as good as I look", Sylar answered sarcastically.

"Oh, that good?" Sarah replied.

Sylar let out a soft laugh as the two caught each other's eye and smiled at the comment.

"What exactly are you doing here?", Sylar asked.

"Well, I'm guessing you don't remember much of what happened?" Sarah asked kindly.

"I remember the alley", Sylar replied, almost solemnly, "but I guess I was knocked out."

"Yeah", Sarah replied slowly, "I live in the apartments near the alley. I was taking out the garbage for the next day and I found you lying there."

Sylar cringed inside thinking about how weak he must have looked to her; lying there like an abused dog that's been battered and bruised for daring to howl.

"I was really worried", Sarah continued, catching Sylar's attention again, "I called an ambulance, but I didn't know what else to do...I just, sat there", she finished with an air of guilt.

"Not much else you could have done", Sylar replied, almost reassuringly.

Sarah simply smiled again and moved to sit at the foot of his bed.

Sylar felt a little odd at the situation. He wasn't surprised that someone would call an ambulance for him – they'd do that for anyone – he just wasn't used to kindness like this.

_"Not that I care",_ Sylar thought, self-convincingly.

"So", Sylar began, "why are you still here? I mean, you did your part by helping me, which I am thankful for", Sylar finished, sincerely.

"Well", Sarah replied, smiling (a trait which Sylar was growing surprisingly fond of), "I know that, if it were me, I wouldn't want to wake up alone."

Sylar was taken aback by her unwavering honesty, and he found himself speechless.

"And, you know, "she continued, seemingly uncomfortable with the silence, "they told me you didn't have any ID on you, and I was worried that you'd have no friends or family show up, and I th–"

"Thank you", Sylar blurted out, interrupting Sarah.

Sarah simply smiled and nodded, and continued, "By the way, what is your name?"

Sylar paused for a moment and then answered, "I'm Gabriel...Gabriel Gray."

"Nice to meet you Gabriel", Sarah replied, once more smiling her smile of infectious joy.

Sylar merely nodded, wondering why he had just used _that_ name.


	5. Nightmares

_**Quick Author's Note:**__ To those of you that may stumble on this, or perhaps read this in the past, I thank you. I began writing this a LONG time ago (as you can see from when the story was first published), and I have just recently gotten my drive to continue it back. I guess it comes at a decent time, since the new season is starting up soon. Anyways, I thank those of you that take the time to read this, and I hope everyone enjoys it, and I will surely try to continue regularly updating from now on! Thanks!_

_"Fear is the tax that conscience pays to guilt."_

George Sewell

**Nightmares**

Sylar lay, once again, alone in his hospital room. That's not to say, however, that it didn't take some convincing on his part to get in this situation. The girl, for as much as Sylar could discern, was as ordinary as they come. However, she had a truly rare kindness about her that was borderline-annoyingly-stubborn. It took Sylar a good forty-five minutes to convince her to leave and go to work—something she had neglected to do for a few days now, which she justified by saying, _"__I have__ more tha__n enough vacation days than I need__ anyway"_. And even after the tiring tirade, she made it pointedly clear that she would come right back after her shift, which Sylar had to concede to as he knew he wouldn't win two arguments in a row.

An even more pressing thought than her stubbornness, however, was that he found himself actually enjoying these little moments. He wouldn't admit to himself that he _cared_ for her; at least not more than one owes the person who saved their life—a concession that Sylar truly hated to admit—but, nevertheless, he enjoyed her company in the dead silence that was his particular hospital wing. And, to say the very least, he found that she took his mind off of his more, as Sylar put it, _"pressing matters"_.

Thus, it was with great disappointment that Sylar now found himself completely bored in his situation he had worked so hard for. He tried to watch TV, but soaps, Martha Stewart, and a marathon of Divorce Court were hardly the kind of entertainment he was looking for.

_"Useless daytime programming" _Sylar thought to himself.

Turning the TV off and tossing the remote to the end of his bed, Sylar resolved that sleeping was the next best option he really had. He lay back, closed his eyes, and tried to will away the headache that had accompanied him ever since the doctors had reduced his pain medication. Apparently he was, _"showing remarkable progress"_, as far as his recovery was concerned, but Sylar would rather have had the medicine than feel like crap.

Drifting off, he found it quite easy to get to sleep given his condition. Yet, the quiet of the hospital was annoyingly persistent, and Sylar only wished there could be some form of lively activity going on. No sooner had the idea popped into his head, when the TV autonomously flickered on and Sylar was woken from his reverie by an angry mother on Divorce Court shouting:

_"Hell no! You not my baby's daddy!"_

Angrily, Sylar reached for the remote and clicked the TV off once more with triumphant vigor. Laying his head down again, he turned onto his side and tried to fall asleep once more. However, and not even a minute after he had laid back down, the TV flicked on—this time much louder—and Sylar was met by the same, overly-angered divorcee.

Sitting up once more, Sylar reached for the remote and turned to click the TV off once more. However, as he turned his head, he immediately recoiled in disgust and, had he been able to, would have jumped out of his bed at the sight. For, staring at him from in front of the television was a bleeding, seething, and scalp-less Zane Taylor. Sylar's heart was racing at the sight and, to his utter surprise, was actually scared. He felt rather naked without his powers and knew that, whatever this was, he could likely do much to save himself in his injured state.

Speaking up in disbelief, Sylar started, _"I…I thought I—"_

_"Killed me?"_ Zane interrupted, grinning maniacally, _"I guess you did…sure looks that way, doesn't it?"_

_"This isn't real, is it?"_ Sylar asked.

_"I dunno", _replied Zane, scratching his blood scalp, _"seems pretty real to me"._

Sylar was unsure as to whether or not he was dreaming. He kept pinching himself under his blanket to try and wake himself, but to no avail. Moreover, he was becoming increasingly frightened at the situation. Here, standing in his room, was the man of whom Sylar had killed, tele-scalped, and stolen his power. Had he had his powers, Sylar would be in no real danger. But he was powerless and weak, and he didn't know whether or not calling for help would do much good.

_"It won't"_, Zane answered.

_"What do you want then"_, Sylar asked Zane, nervously.

_"Well"_, Zane replied, _"I guess just to return the favor of what you did to me!"_, he finished with a sick grin.

With that, Zane was advancing toward Sylar with a power drill. The origin of said weapon being the least on Sylar's mind, however, he tried to get up from his bed but—due mostly to the lovely full-length leg cast and arm sling he wore—he tumbled out of bed and landed hard on the floor.

Trying desperately to slither away from Zane, Sylar started to crawl into the corner where a large table was positioned. Yet, no sooner had he gone even a foot, he felt a foot crash hard into his back, pinning him to the floor.

_"Better get ready, this could get a little messy"_, Zane breathed maliciously, and Sylar heard the vicious whir of the drill as Zane turned it on.

Closing his eyes, Sylar screamed and writhed as the drill bore deep into his skull.

_"C'mon Gabriel!"_, Zane shrieked with glee, _"I'm gonna fix you!"_

Sylar continued to kick and scream, and Zane continued to taunt him with continued calls of:

_"C'mon Gabriel!! Gabriel, what's wrong?"_

The voice continued, yet seemed to get further and further away and higher in pitch.

It wasn't until Sylar's body started violently convulsing did he realize that someone was shaking him. Still screaming, he opened his eyes and realized that it was Sarah's voice and she was shaking him from, what appeared to be, an awful nightmare.

Looking around, Sylar realized he had, indeed, fallen out of his bed, and Sarah must have come back at some point and realized he was having an awful nightmare. His face was soaking with sweat, and Sarah was grasping his face in her hands with an extremely worried look on her face.

_"Gabriel"_, Sarah began, _"are you alright?"_

Sylar simply nodded, yet he knew that, whatever that nightmare was, it was unlike any he had ever had, and he definitely wasn't alright.


	6. The Kindness of Strangers

_"Sometimes when we are generous in small, barely detectable ways it can change someone else's life forever" - _Margaret Cho

**The Kindness of Strangers**

About an hour later, after hobbling back into bed amidst Sarah's persistent inquiries as to his wellbeing, Sylar sat upright while getting further examinations from the doctor. Apparently, his broken ribs, leg, and minor concussion were all doing much better, but it'd be a long while before they were fully healed. Additionally, and much to his dismay, his shoulder had been dislocated in his fall from his bed—Sylar guessed that a likely reason he hadn't noticed the pain was due to the drill boring into his skull. Needless to say, the lovely process of popping his shoulder back into place was not a welcome ordeal.

_"AAARRRGHH, HOLY-"_, Sylar screamed as he bit down on his lip to ease the pain.

Sarah jumped at the outburst, and squeezed Sylar's shoulder for support.

_"It'll be alright"_, she assured him, _"but wow have you been through a lot __recently, Gabriel"_.

Sylar appreciated her concern, but he also resented how weak this all made him look. He was more than just powerless; he had lost a very large part of him. Namely he had lost the feeling of specialty he once possessed, and he felt utterly pitiful.

_"I'll be fine"_, Sylar returned painfully, _"I don't need any pity."_

_"Oh, I know"_, Sarah replied reassuringly, _"I just fee__l bad is all."_

_"Don't feel bad for me!"_, Sylar retorted, a little angrier this time.

Sarah opened her mouth to reply, but decided just to drop it as he was obviously under a lot of stress right now.

_"Well_", the doctor began, _"we'll have to do a few more checks to be sure, but if all is as well as it seems__ you should be able to be released as early as tomorrow morning."_

_"Like…this?"_, Sylar asked, clearly questioning whether or not he could get much of anywhere in his current state.

_"I don't see why not"_, the doctor continued cheerfully, _"your concussion was minor and is doing much better, and it's not like people with broken bones stay in the hospital for the duration of their casts"_.

Not having anything to dispute, Sylar merely nodded to the doctor.

_"Great, then see you in a bit Gabriel!"_, the doctor said happily, and walked out of the room.

_"Well that's great news!"_, Sarah replied cheerfully, as she crossed the room and sat in the chair next to Sylar's bed.

_"Yeah, great"_, Sylar replied, unenthusiastically.

Truthfully, Sylar was overjoyed to escape the hospital, but at the same time he was unsure as to what he would do — and more importantly where he would go — once he was allowed to leave. He didn't really have much money with him, and, given the fact that he had woken up here and not actually planned this, he had no real means of getting back to New York.

_"Well I bet you're eager to be getting back home in your own bed"_, Sarah suggested.

_"Yeah, of course"_, Gabriel replied, still lost in thought.

_"Is something wrong Gabriel?"_, Sarah asked intuitively.

Sylar thought for a moment. So many things were "wrong" that he wasn't sure how he was still functioning. He didn't have his powers, didn't know where he was or how he got that, was having vivid dreams (most recently nightmares), and he had some overly-kind saint of a woman sitting here with him that he realized, for the most part, was a complete stranger.

_"It's just"_, Sylar began, _"I think I __have __ amnesia or something."_

Noticing Sarah's puzzled look, Sylar continued, _"You see, the day that I got beat up, I woke up in the middle of Grant Park on a bench. And what's worse, is that the night before I had gone to sleep in my apartment."_

_"I see, are you sure you didn't like…sleep-walk or something?"_ Sarah asked, making Sylar realize he had forgotten a key point.

_"I'm pretty sure, seeing as my apartment I currently live in is in New York"_, Sylar answered.

_"Wow"_, Sarah replied, wide-eyed and mildly shocked at the situation, _"and you are sure you don't remember anything?"_

_"I'm positive, which I guess is either__ really scary or very intriguing", _Sylar added.

_"I see"_, Sarah replied, almost consolingly, _"well then, your situation sucks even __**more**__ than before._

_"Really, Gabriel, if there's anything I __can do-__"_, she finished, placing her hand on his arm as her voice trailed off.

There it was again; her unwavering kindness. It's not as if Sylar had always been treated terribly in his life, but compassion like Sarah's was uncharted territory in his experience. He was really unsure of what to say or even how to react in her presence, and the mixed feelings of gratitude, as well as a need to get away, were not helping the situation.

_"Like I said"_, Sylar began, _"you don't need to…no, you __shouldn't__ feel sorry for me._

_"I'll just figure things out when the time comes"_, Sylar finished, unsure of exactly who he was trying to convince.

As if on cue, his doctor swung open the door and walked into the room seeming rather excited.

_"Great news Gabriel!"_, the doctor exclaimed, _"you get to go home tomorrow!"_

_"Oh…great"_, Sylar remarked, a tone of worry in his voice now.

What was he going to do now? He had nowhere to go, and no means of getting back to anywhere that would seem even remotely similar. Not to mention, his powerlessness would no doubt continue to be a pressing issue, and could even be a danger if he were to return to New York now. If even _one_ of those meddling fools — like the cheerleader, that annoying Peter Petrelli, the little sword-wielding teleporter —spotted him, he'd be finished.

_"Perfect then"_, the doctor continued, interrupting Sylar's train of thought, _"I'll send a nurse in a bit with the release papers, and tomorrow you should be free to go!"_

The overly-energetic doctor, seemingly very pleased with the news he had just delivered, spun on his heel and marched back through the door from which he came.

_"Gabriel?"_, Sarah practically whispered, getting Sylar's attention once more, _"I know this might sound weird since we barely know each other, but if you need a place to stay, my apartment has a guest room._

_"I mean, I've been using it mostly as a storage room since I moved in, but you could definitely stay there…if you don't mind a few stacks of boxes lying around"_, Sarah suggested.

_"Oh, no Sarah I really wouldn't want to intrude"_, Sylar insisted, _"I'll just…figure something out…I've hitch-hiked before so I could probably do it—"_.

_"HA!"_, Sarah blurted in protest, _"like I'm really gonna let you do that! It's dangerous enough as it is, not to mention hardly being able to walk!"_

Sylar was taken aback by her mild outburst. As much as she was kind, it seemed that her kindness often acted as a compliment to her stubbornness. He had seen it on other occasions—no amount of arguing or protest would do any good—yet Sylar continued anyway:

_"Honestly, Sarah, I can take care of myself"_, Sylar urged.

_"No offense Gabriel, but our history__ together,__ thus far__, suggests__ otherwise"_, Sarah retorted playfully.

Unsure of what to say to that, Sylar decided to try a different approach.

_"Do you __always__ have to be this damn stubborn?"_, Sylar asked, simply relishing the moment thus far, _"it seems you can't help but argue with me all the time"_, Sylar finished with a laugh.

_"Do you?"_, Sarah shot back, a bit more seriously, _"I won't pretend to know more than I do, but I will say this._

_"You don't always have to act so strong"_, Sarah continued, _"it's ok to need help from others you know."_

Sylar hesitated for a moment, and then began again, _"Alright…fine. As long as you're sure you don't mind? I won't impose?"_, Sylar asked, surprised that he genuinely meant it.

_"I'm sure Gabriel"_, Sarah assured him, _"__it'll be no problem at all"_.

_"Ok"_, Sylar replied, smiling slightly.

Sarah nodded, and reached for the remote at the foot of Sylar's bed.

Clicking the TV on, she flipped through channels as a nurse came into the room wheeling a tray of food and papers for Sylar to sign.

_"__Honestly__"_, Sarah punctuated with a sigh, "_who__ would want to watch a marathon of Divorce Court?"_

Sylar simply let out a stifled laugh, and finished filling out his release forms. The nurse, after checking his vitals for the eighth time today, grabbed the papers, and began walking towards the door when a thought struck Sylar.

_"Wait!"_, Sylar exclaimed, _"aren't I going to get some kind of bill?...for staying here?"_.

_"Um…as far as I can tell Mr. Gray"_, the nurse replied, _"all of your expenses have been covered already."_

Sylar was shocked. He didn't have any money—at least not any substantial amount—and he _definitely_ didn't know anyone in this city who would or could have done it.

_"Sarah?"_, Sylar asked her, wondering if she had done yet another saintly act.

_"Sorry Gabe"_, Sarah replied honestly, _"even if I had that much money to spare, I would have mentioned it to you first."_

_"Do you know"_, Sylar asked the nurse, _"who it was that paid the bill?"_

_"Hmmm…nope, sorry. It just says that your expenses have been covered"_, the nurse answered.

_"Right"_, Sylar replied in confusion as the nurse exited the room.

_"Maybe a relative somewhere paid it?"_, Sarah suggested.

_"I doubt it, seeing as my parents are…they're in no position to pay for it, and I definitely have no known relative in this city"_, Sylar answered.

_"Well then, I guess it's just one of those 'miracles' that apparently exist!"_, Sarah said with a hint of sarcasm.

_"Hehe, I suppose so"_, Sylar answered.

Pushing the thought aside, Sylar proceeded to join Sarah in mocking the melodramatic performances of the people on Divorce Court. Nevertheless, he was confused, and hated that he had yet _another_ unanswered question to deal with.


	7. Misconception

**Author's Note:** Just posting a quick note about how amazing the premiere was! I hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I did. And, in celebration, here's my next fic. Also, please leave any form of comment (preferably good or at least constructive) if you decide to read. Not only will it give me motivation to keep writing, I'd like to hear what people think about specific things and even possible ideas for further chapters. Thanks everyone who decides to read!

_"We thought, because we had power, we had wisdom."_

-Stephen Vincent Benet

**Misconception**

Sylar motioned for Sarah to go ahead up the stairs, indicating that he would follow her. They had arrived at her apartment and he, finding great difficulty in adjusting to his crutches, decided that it'd be better if he hobbled up the stairs without fear of falling back and injuring someone else in the process. So as Sarah proceeded ahead and unlocked the door, Sylar grappled with how to use his crutches with one arm in a sling as well as in having to deal with unnaturally-steep stairs.

Unlocking the door and looking back, Sarah commented, _"You know Gabriel, I know you were adamant about doing this on your own, but do you have any idea how I'll feel if you fall and break something else?"_

_"Trust me"_, Sylar assured her, as he literally did a pirouette to get to the next step, _"I've got this. Look, I'm already half-way up!"_, he finished, a little cheerfully.

_"Right…"_, Sarah answered, her voice trailing off.

When Sylar had finally maneuvered himself up the stairs, he smiled and they headed into her apartment. It was a nice place. Whatever she did for a living, it had to be pretty decent-paying. It was small, due to the fact that she lived alone, but it had everything one could need. Sylar followed Sarah as she led him down the hallway to what would be his room.

Sarah wasn't lying; it _was_ a spare room, with a bed and closet and even a television, but there were several piles of boxes surrounding the bed, some blockading the closet, and others in two towers that reached almost to the ceiling, and were placed on either side of a bookshelf—the likes of which was full.

_"A __few__ boxes for storage__ huh?"_, Sylar asked Sarah sarcastically.

_"Yeah…I guess I under-exaggerated a bit"_, Sarah replied sheepishly.

_"__No problem"_, Sylar replied, _"beggars can't be choosers"._

Smiling, Sarah said, _"Well, __I'm starving so I was going to make dinner. Are you hungry?"_

_"Thanks, but I'm probably just going to __lie__ down for a while"_, Sylar replied, wanting a few moments of privacy.

_"Alright then, let me know if you need anything"_, Sarah said, with a smile, as she exited and headed for the kitchen.

Sylar took this opportunity to move a few boxes away from the bed to provide a type of pathway. After this, he lay down and closed his eyes, thinking about all of his unanswered questions.

Although it concerned him, his power loss seemed to be the least of his worries at the present. He wondered how he could wake up hundreds of miles away from home, and better yet, why he didn't remember any of it. Why had he dreamed of Zane Taylor attacking him? Was it the act of a guilty conscience? He certainly didn't _feel_ guilty about what he had done. It was evolution, and evolution can be a brutal and unfair process.

_"Yeah, that's it"_, Sylar thought to himself in reassurance, _"I am evolution."_

_"You know, that is an awful misconception"_, came a voice to Sylar's right. Startled, Sylar's eyes shot open and he was shocked at what he saw. There, leaning against the dresser across the room, was the man that Sylar had seen in one of his previous dreams. Nothing had changed about him, Sylar noted; his clothes, hair, and S-shaped tattoo remained.

_"You!"_, Sylar exclaimed, "_who __are__ you?"_

_"People always say things like 'he evolved into this' or, in your case, things like 'I am evolution' or '__I'm a natural progression of the species!"_, the man stated, ignoring Sylar's question, _"yet, they__ are completely wrong."_

Sylar, confused, simply didn't answer, and the man quickly seized his opportunity to elaborate.

_"One of the first things you learn in Biology, dear Gabriel!"_, the man answered, as if Sylar was clearly missing some obvious detail, _"an individual cannot evolve. Only a population of those of the same species can be said to 'evolve'. _

_"So what you're doing is not evolution, really. Sure, you __are__ a natural progression of the species, but not because you and you alone are special. Everyone else with any ability of their own is in the same boat. _

_"And don't forget another thing Gabriel,"_, the man finished gleefully, _"your genes, no matter how many alterations you continue to make__ to them__, are useless from an evolutionary standpoint unless they're passed on!"_

Utterly and confused by the biology-babble that he had just listened to, and not really in the mood to make sense of it, Sylar decided to revert back to his previous question.

_"Who..are..you?"_, Sylar asked, exasperatedly.

_"I find it funny that __'__who__' __is always the question that people ask first, don't you?", _remarked the mysterious man.

_"What do you mean?"_, Sylar asked.

_"I mean, wouldn't you rather get to the good stuff and ask the 'what' part?"_, the man replied comically, "_I find it much more enthralling, personally"._

_"Fine then"_, Sylar conceded, _"__what__ are you?_

_"Or better yet"_, Sylar continued, _"how are you doing this? First my dream, and now in-person. What, are you a teleporter like that little Japanese pest?"_

_"Oh__ you short-sighted little gnat__!"_, the man exclaimed, almost jubilantly, causing Sylar to glare maliciously at him, _"Who ever said __this__ isn't a dream? Or conversely, who ever said that I'm here in-person right now?__"_

_"Well…I just assumed-"_, Sylar began.

_"Assumptions are truly__ evil little things! Take my advice Gabriel, don't make assumptions",_ the man replied, seeming almost reproachful.

Sylar, utterly bewildered at this point, decided he only had one thing to say at this point, _"__I've told you before, d__on't call me Gabriel."_

_"Come now Gabriel, you can't really expect me to be afraid of you, can you?"_, the man asked, in a very condescending tone.

_"Well, you would be if I had my powers"_, Sylar shot back, rather childishly.

_"Really now?"_, the man asked, more seriously this time, _"can you prove it?"_

With that, the man's eyes glowed a fiery red and the entire room was engulfed in a bright, crimson light. As his surroundings came back into focus, Sylar noticed that they were in New York City. In fact, they were both standing in the middle of Times Square! The only problem Sylar noticed, was that there were no people. Nothing moved—save for electronic billboards and marquees—and Sylar found the entire situation to be very unnerving. Even more shocking still was the fact that all of his injuries had vanished, and he was wearing his usual black-attire—a change from the jeans, t-shirt, and jacket he had been wearing since waking up in Chicago.

_"Well then, Gabriel"_, the man began calmly, interrupting his train of thought, _"shall we begin?"_

_"Begin wh-"_, Sylar began, but immediately answered his own question when he dodged a basket-ball-sized fireball that was rocketing toward him.

_Oh, sorry Gabriel were you not ready? I figured you'd have noticed you had your powers back, since they are just oh-so-important to you"_, the man replied mockingly.

Shocked, Sylar suddenly knew it was true as he sent a bench flying into a nearby shop window with the flick of a single finger. Sylar felt instantly different. He didn't know how to describe the feeling, even to himself, but he suddenly felt much less hesitant. It was like the part of him that _made_ him Sylar had suddenly returned.

_"__Oh yes, __I'm __gonna__ enjoy this"_, Sylar growled, maliciously.

With that, Sylar flicked his hand and telekinetically hurled several light posts at the man. In retaliation, the man jumped high into the air, avoiding the projectiles that, consequently, went hurtling into a nearby bank. Then, almost immediately following his jump, the man—seemingly floating at this point—blasted a spherical burst of crimson back at Sylar. Much more alert this time, Sylar used his telekinesis to stop the attack. However, and to the surprise of Sylar, the blast did not stop but was, rather, deflected into a nearby structure. With a sickening, and surprising (considering that the man's projectile was quite small) fury, the building erupted in flames and exploded with such force that it shook every structure in the immediate vicinity.

Sylar was thrown off his feet and into a nearby parked truck. The wind was knocked out of him, and Sylar struggled to his feet, as he coughed and gasped for air. He had never seen a power like this before. The man had just wiped out a sizeable area with what Sylar guessed was a rather minor attack. Sylar didn't know how this was possible, nor did _anything_ really make sense at this point, but he decided to hold the questions for when he was slicing open the man's skull and extracting this beautiful power.

Standing up straight, Sylar peered up at the man—who was still floating—and grinned.

_"Quite a power"_, Sylar said with minor-admiration, _"it'll be an amazing addition to my collection!"_

_"I imagine it __would__ be"_, the man replied, seeming rather unfazed by Sylar's comment.

Angrily, Sylar sent three cars hurtling toward the man in quick succession, and then—even to his own surprise, as it was a new occurrence for him—sent a barrage of ice spikes flying almost immediately after the first attack. Sylar knew that he would have to employ several abilities at once, and rapidly, if he was going to defeat this interesting new foe.

Much to his dismay, however, Sylar watched as the man simply dodged two cars, blasted another (truly vaporizing the object), and erected a tremendous wall of fire (which acted as a shield), melting the ice projectiles.

However, the resulting counter-attack by the man left a large cloud of smoke that obscured the space between the two men. Sylar, seizing the opportunity, sent four more cars, five benches, and an array of various debris through the cloud of smoke, hoping to catch the man off-guard. And, working almost exactly how he'd hoped, Sylar heard, as the objects crashed into a nearby structure, a sickening sound of crunching bones, followed by a cry of pain.

As Sylar walked forward through the haze, he saw, with delight, the effects of his attack. The man was pinned under one of the cars, with what looked to be a large steel rod through his upper torso.

_"What did I tell you?"_, Sylar laughed, staring down at the helpless man.

_"I'll hand it to you"_, Sylar continued, _"that certainly is quite the power._

_"I guess it's a good thing that I'll be taking it now. You didn't deserve it after all"_, Sylar finished, extending his finger as he began the telekinetic incision.

However, instead of screaming, the man just laughed as Sylar went about his work. Hysterically, and loudly, the man taunted Sylar with roars of laughter. Sylar, confused by this, was about to stop and speak, but suddenly, and without warning, the man burst into flames. Sylar backed away in horror as the red ashes danced wildly around the devastated square. Sylar watched in mourning as his chance of this power slipped away from him. He couldn't believe that he'd lost the chance, but the man was almost fully a pile of burning ashes at this point.

Then, with a rush of force, the ashes converged upon one another and emitted a blinding flash of light. Turning away from the stinging flare, Sylar shielded his eyes until the light dimmed and, to his amazement and shock, the man was standing before him once more; no apparent damage or wound of any kind.

_"It seems, Mr. Gray"_, the man began as he flicked his wrist and Sylar was thrown hard into a nearby car, pinned by some outside force, _"that you are no more prepared than the last time we met!"_

Sylar, held in place by what appeared to be the man's own telekinetic ability, shouted, _"what the hell is going on?"_

_"Sadly, Gabriel"_, the man continued calmly, holding Sylar in place, _"__ it seems __that your lust and acquisition of power has led you down a very dark path._

_"Even worse__, you seem to think you have some entitlement and knowledge of these powers that makes you stand above all other 'special' people"_, the man added.

_"That's right"_, Sylar seethed, _"and you're just one more undeserving wretch standing in my way!"_

The man, seemingly angry at Sylar's outburst, flicked his wrist and sent Sylar flying into another car. He then released his control on Sylar, causing him to fall to the ground in a painful slump.

Then, walking up and standing over Sylar, the man said bluntly, _"when next we meet, Gabriel, your mind will have changed entirely"_.

_"Heh…don't count on it!"_, Sylar spat back.

The man merely shook his head, held his hand above Sylar, and, in a flash of fiery light, Sylar awoke back in Sarah's apartment, screaming at the awful pain in his head. Panicked, and with the pain having dissipated, Sylar took in his surroundings. He was disoriented, and for some reason felt as if he was upside-down. No sooner had that thought crossed his mind did Sarah come bursting into the room. She threw the light on, and frantically ran to Sylar's side.

_"Gabriel!"_, she panicked, concern in her face, _"what happened?"_

Sitting back up with the help of Sarah, he found his voice and muttered, heart still racing, _"just another nightmare"_.


	8. Uncertainty

**Author's Note: **Kind of late for this kind of note, but I thought I'd add it in for those that actually read and hopefully enjoy my story! The quotes I include at the beginning will always have some kind of reinforcing message in terms of what the individual chapter is about. If this has been confusing then I apologize, and hopefully that helped to clear it up if it's been a problem. Lastly, this chapter will actually have a switch in the point-of-view. Instead of being told from Sylar's POV, I am going to show you the story from the mind of Sarah. I think it is important to see her thoughts and processes as the story develops, so if it works in this chapter then it may become a more common occurrence. Again, thanks to all of those that read this, and _please_ feel free to leave comments, as I'd love to know when people are/aren't enjoying the story. This chapter will be a bit shorter (it's my 2nd one today, because I'm being hit by ideas), but I hope people like it. Thanks all!

_"Doubt is not a pleasant condition, but certainty is absurd."_

-Voltaire

**Uncertainty**

[Sarah's POV

Sarah bent over as she opened the door of the oven and pulled out the pizza that she had been making. When it came to cooking, it wasn't like she was inept or anything, but she was definitely not about to become a challenger on Iron Chef.

She placed the pizza on the counter to cool, and proceeded into the living room to wait. She sat down in the recliner and turned the TV on, hoping to god that the infamous Divorce Court would not be on.

With that thought, Sarah let out a quiet snicker, remembering the fun she and Gabriel had had the other day. She glanced over at the nearby couch, and at Gabriel's sleeping form sprawled out on it. She knew it sounded odd, but she really did enjoy just watching him like this, and she had done it on a few occasions now.

It had been about a week since they had come back from the hospital, and since then, Sarah's life just hadn't been the same. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she'd have ended up like this! What started off as her being a simple good-samaritan, ended with her having a new (not to mention great) friend and roommate.

It's not as if she had fallen in love with him or anything.

_"I already have a boyfriend"_, Sarah reassured herself, though seemingly-uncertain.

Nevertheless, she had to admit that she simply loved hanging out with Gabriel. Sure he had amnesia, and there was a lot she didn't know about him. And, to be quite frank, the circumstances in which he had come into her life were more than strange. Yet, none of this really mattered, especially now that she had gotten to know him a little bit better.

They often spent their days—when she wasn't at work—talking, laughing (she loved that they had such similar sense of humor), and just hanging around. Sarah liked this because, outside of Jason (her boyfriend), she really didn't have anybody that she hung around with.

She often wondered whether or not it was _because_ of Jason that she didn't ever meet new people, but she settled herself in the knowledge in that it couldn't be the case. Yet, he was pretty upset when he found out she had a new roommate (a guy no less), and it took a while for her to convince him that it didn't mean anything.

Remembering her pizza, Sarah snapped out of her reverie and proceeded back into the kitchen.

_"Mmmm"_, she hummed as she bit into a slice.

It was her favorite kind of pizza: onions, mushrooms, peppers, and black olives. Sarah was a vegetarian, and, as far as she could remember, she had been all her life. Ever since she was little, she simply adored animals of every kind. She grew up on a farm, and the prospect of eating a cow like the one's she had grown up with was sickening to her. Animals and pets were her best friends growing up, and, even though it had her labeled as the "weird" girl, she was always too independent to really care.

This love for animals even followed her into her adult life, which is what inspired her to become a veterinarian. More specifically, she was the head Veterinary Surgeon at the Lincoln Park Zoo—a local zoo in Chicago. She had always felt, what she described as, a deep connection with animals. Sometimes, she felt like she could understand and feel what they felt, but she always reminded herself that it was impossible.

From the living room, she heard Gabriel shift in his sleep, letting out a soft groan before becoming quiet again.

As guilty as it made her feel, she really found Gabriel to be an attractive man. He was mysterious, yet a warm and caring individual. From his dark hair, his dark brown eyes, to the way he hobbled around awkwardly with his crutches. She found every aspect of him to be absolutely adorable, and, aside from the fact that he was very resistant to receiving help at times, she really could find no real fault in him.

Yet, she often found herself wondering what exactly it all meant. She really didn't know too much about his past, literally nothing about his family (except that he didn't really get along with them anymore), and a slew of other aspects about him that weren't bad…just inexplicable.

The phone rang, suddenly, interrupting Sarah's thoughts and once more bringing her back to reality. She crossed the kitchen and answered it.

_"Hello?"_, she answered cheerfully.

_"Hey babe"_, came her boyfriend's voice on the other end.

_"Hey!"_, she replied, a little overenthusiastically, _"what's up?"_

_"Not too much"_, Jason replied, _"I was thinking we should go out tonight, it's been a while since we have__. I miss you, and I know you miss me__"._

_"Jason, we went out two days ago, plus I'__m swamped with work; I have a surgery early tomorrow morning"_, Sarah replied, pleadingly.

_"Oh sure, right"_, Jason replied bitterly, _"I'm betting you're really just planning on staying in tonight with your new friend!"_

_"That's not fair"_, Sarah shot back, _"I thought we had already talked about this, he's a new friend and he needed a place to stay!"_

_"Ha, you couldn't just let the dude hitchhike a ride back to where he came from?"_, Jason asked angrily.

_"Right, because then I could totally rest easy knowing that he was likely riding home with a murderer"_, Sarah replied sarcastically.

_"Whatever Sarah, obviously we know where your priorities lie"_, Jason struck back, _"I __still say you should have just let him be__ when you sa__w__ him in your alleyw-"_

_"__Go to hell__!"_, Sarah practically shouted back, interrupting him, _"don't bother calling back, because we won't be going anywhere now!"._

Angrily, Sarah slammed the phone back on the hook, and, for good measure, unplugged it from the wall so she wouldn't have to deal with his calls the rest of the night. She was shocked that she had actually just yelled at Jason like that (normally she was too afraid), but when it came to other people, Sarah knew she would really be too caring sometimes.

Walking back into the living room, she sat back in her chair and continued watching TV. Looking over at Gabriel, she felt tears well up in her eyes at the thought of having just left him there. It was terrifying to her to think of lying in that alleyway; cold, beaten, alone, and slowly dying.

Regardless of her uncertainty about Gabriel, there was one thing that Sarah was very certain about. She was glad, in more ways than one, that she had taken her garbage out that day.


	9. It's Not So Bad

_"What is defeat? Nothing but education; nothing but the first step to something better."_

-Wendell Phillips

**It's Not So Bad**

[Sylar's POV

It had been about one week since his "dream" battle with the mysterious man—and about two and a half since his return from the hospital—yet Sylar found that he simply could not stop thinking about the fight.

Had it been a dream? Why had the usually-thriving city of New York become a ghost town? And perhaps the most difficult question of all: Was any of what had happened even real? Or had the cataclysmic encounter been a mere figment of his imagination?

The power the man had displayed was unlike anything he had ever encountered. Furthermore, it was almost as if the man pulled random powers out of thin air, and he was able to utilize them with amazing skill. Sylar even found himself wondering whether his near-defeat of the man was his doing, or simply something the man had done for his own amusement.

Casting the thought aside, Sylar returned once more to his task at hand. He had decided, as a form of repayment to Sarah (not to mention that he was incredibly bored while she was at work), that he would busy himself during the day with little tasks around her apartment. Thus far, he had fixed a leak in her bathroom sink, organized the guest room/his temporary room so it was easier to get around, and even cleaned up the cluttered-mess that was her refrigerator—the latter because he was sick of being bombarded by a slew of apples, kiwis, and cauliflower whenever he opened the door too quickly.

Today, he had decided to take it easy—he _was_ still injured after all—and organize the bookshelf in his room alphabetically, chronologically, and by size. Needless to say, he was very bored indeed.

He hadn't gotten very far, meaning he had just started, when he noticed an interesting "A" book. Picking up the blue book, he instantly recognized it.

_"Activating Evolution"_, he muttered, curious as to why he had found a copy of it here. Sure it was an interesting read, but it was nevertheless an unexpected thing to find in her apartment, as she had never expressed any real interest.

_"Then again"_, Sylar thought, _"it's not as if__ he__ knew __that__ much about her, and she was a vet after all. She had to have some interest in biological matters in that regard."_

Placing the book on the shelf, he continued, noting any interesting titles he found: "A Vet's Guide to Vital Mammalian Organs", "Greener on the Other Side: A Dialogue on Vegetarianism", and, to his surprise, a romance novel titled, "The Hidden Passion of the Vivacious Mistress". Smirking, Sylar finished about an hour and a half later and proceeded back into the living room, just in time to greet Sarah as she entered the door.

_"Hey you!"_, she greeted him cheerfully, "what have you been up to today?"

_"Just rearranging your incredibly messy and, if I do say so myself, quite diverse bookshelf"_, replied Sylar, poking fun at her.

_"Ha, ha"_, she replied, sarcastically, _"at least I'm not the proud owner of 'How To Fall __**Up **__the Stairs: An Autobiography."_

_"I seem to recall that __**someone**__ here wouldn't be winning any 'Ms. Graceful' awards either__"_, Sylar shot back playfully, referring to his fall he had had yesterday.

Though it had hurt like hell, it had ended with them both laughing hysterically as Sarah had tried to help him up and had ended up slipping and landing, hard, on her butt at the foot of the stairs. They had been lucky that all of this had happened before they had gotten further up the stairs.

_"Well, I wouldn't have fallen if you didn't weigh so much fatty!"_, she laughed, as she moved past him and playfully hit him in the gut.

Feigning hurt, Sylar clutched his stomach and hobbled after her into the living room. Sitting down, Sarah turned the TV on and began flipping through the channels.

_"Oh, Sarah?"_, Sylar asked her, as she turned her head to look at him, _"I noticed you have a copy of 'Activating Evolution'. Why did you buy that book?"_

_"Oh, haha"_, Sarah laughed and replied, _"I actually borrowed it from a friend.__"_

_"Ah, I see"_, Sylar replied nonchalantly.

_"Yeah"_, Sarah continued, _"she is really interested in evolution, and found the book to be very interesting. She's always believe__d__ in the whole 'super powers' thing."_

_"Do you"_, Sylar asked, _"Do you believe that those people actually exist?"_

_"Well, I'm really not sure, actually"_, Sarah replied, _"I mean, I guess anything is possible. Though I've never come across anyone __**that**__ special yet."_

Sylar laughed at the irony of her comment, and replied, _"Yeah…I don't think I have either."_

A few moments passed in which neither of them said anything. They just sat in silence, save for the TV in the background. Then, as another thought hit Sylar, he opened his mouth to speak once more.

_"Sarah?"_, he asked.

_"Yeah, Gabriel?"_, she replied once more, eyes fixated on the TV.

_"Have you ever"_, he began, _"have you ever been—I dunno—not good enough?"_

Peeling her eyes away from the TV, she looked at Sylar in concern and asked, _"What do you mean by that, Gabriel?"_

_"Oh! Nothing bad, really. Just…has there ever been someone who was just…better than you at something?"_

_"Oh, of course!"_, she replied, reassuringly, _"in college there was this guy. I was basically competing with hi__m to get into a program for __veterinary students at a local zoo. It was a program that only accepted one person per year, and he and I were the two big competitors to get__ in. I worked my butt off for months! Yet, when it came down to it, he ended up getting the position. _

_"__I made excuse after excuse for why I wasn't chosen, but, in the end, I realized that he was just better. And, a year later__ I graduated and __ended up getting a position at a zoo here in Chicago. And now, I've worked my way up to where I wanted to be in the first place"_, she finished.

_"Ah, well that's awesome!"_, Sylar replied, not feeling much better about his situation.

_"Yeah"_, Sarah nodded, _"I came to the realization that, as long as I was happy in what I was doing, it didn't matter if I wasn't 'the best'__ And really, it's not so bad not being the best__"._

Sylar merely nodded back, though he didn't agree with her sentiment. How could someone settle for being anything less than the best? He used to believe what she did, back when he was just that pathetic watchmaker's son named Gabriel, but he knew the truth now. He had to be better than everyone else. His mother had taught him to accept no less. Yet, he thought once more, if what happened wasn't a dream, then why was he literally decimated by that mysterious man? Did that mean he wasn't the best?

At that moment, a loud knock came at the door, and Sylar instantly knew who it was.

_"That'll be Jason"_, Sarah stated, as she got up and proceeded to greet her boyfriend.

_"Who else?"_, Sylar muttered under his breath, a little angry at the situation.

A few days ago, he had been woken up by Sarah screaming into the phone. He had pretended to stay sleeping, as he didn't want to look to be eavesdropping, but he had noticed that Sarah had tears in her eyes afterward. Later, he found out that it had been her boyfriend Jason that she was angry at, for whatever reason.

Then, yesterday, he had come over with flowers and candy and spouted off about "how much he loved her" and "how he couldn't live without her". After about forty minutes off his incessant groveling, in which he sounded to be rather forward in his attempts, Sarah had given in and they had reconciled.

Sylar had never spoken to the guy—just shared a glance and nodded to him as the two passed through the living room to Sarah's room—but, from a first impression, he really did not like him.

Today was no different.

_"Hey baby!"_, Jason practically shouted at her, as he bounded through the open door and forced a kiss upon her.

_"Hey"_, she replied, as she broke the kiss and proceeded into the kitchen.

As they passed, he shot an unpleasant grin at Sylar, and followed Sarah into the kitchen.

Sylar tried to concentrate on the TV, but the talking and other sounds that were coming from the kitchen were too distracting.

_"C'mon babe"_, Jason pleaded, _"we've __**gotta**__ go out tonight! I know I said it before, but now it's __**really **__been a long time since we've done anything."_

_"I dunno, Jason, I'm not feeling that well today. I had a really long day at work"_, Sarah replied, as she stifled a yawn.

_"Awww, how tragic"_, Jason shot back, rather cruelly.

Sylar did his best to ignore Jason's hypocrisy, as he knew that the only job Jason could claim to have at the moment was that of the "Professionally Unemployed".

_"Uhhhhh"_, Sarah sighed, and replied, _"fine, but we can't stay out very late. It's only Thursday, and I really don't feel like ending the week on a bad note."_

_"Wooo!"_, Jason cheered, triumphantly, _"I'll just head out to the car and wait for ya. And don't take so freakin' long this time__, woman__."_

With that, Jason strode through the living room, winking at Sylar in the process, and slammed the door shut on his way out.

As she trod into the room, looking extremely exhausted, Sarah let out a sigh and rubbed her eyes to try and wake herself up a bit.

_"Gabriel"_, she said, as she stifled another yawn, _"don't wait up for me, ok?"_

_"I promise Sarah, I won't wait up for you"_, Sylar replied sheepishly.

_"Thanks"_, she smiled, as she grabbed her coat and proceeded out the door, smiling at him before she went.

As Sylar sat watching TV, he smiled to himself. Sure he wouldn't wait up for her, but that didn't mean that he couldn't stay up all night watching movies…or Divorce Court. And if she just happened to come home while he was still up, well, at least she wouldn't feel alone.


	10. On the Run

_"The dead cannot cry out for injustice; it is a duty of the living to do so for them."_

-Lois McMaster Bujold

**On The Run**

Sylar stumbled down the hallway, as the bloody figure of Charlie Andrews thumped after him. His heart was racing as he hobbled away from his undead victim.

_"Sarah!"_, Sylar screamed in pain as he swung his ankle, hard, into the entertainment center in the living room, _"Sarah help, please!"_

_"Ahahahaaaahaha!"_, Charlie cackled wildly, _"She can't save you now! No one can save you from __**me**__ Sylar!!!"_

Sylar hopped on his good foot as he swung the kitchen door open and slammed it shut behind him. Falling to the floor, he immediately searched for anything he could use to defend himself. He spotted a meat tenderizer (why the hell did Sarah have that?), a bunch of bananas, and single stalk of celery. Deciding his best bet was the tenderizer, he grasped it just as Charlie (with surprising force) kicked down the door to the kitchen and stood in the doorway with an evil grin on her face.

Reaching into her bloody, hollow scalp, Charlie pulled out a piece of wood (presumably from the mutilated door) and cast it aside with a giggle.

_"Well, __**that's**__ not supposed to be there is it?"_, she asked, sounding truly deranged.

Leaning against the table for support, Sylar spoke frantically.

_"Wh-what do you want?"_, he asked, nervously.

_"Ha ha"_, Charlie exclaimed, _"you know I just want a taste of that juicy brain of yours!"_

Holding the meat tenderizer in front of him, Sylar spoke, _"Sorry to disappoint, but it doesn't work that way."_

_"Ohohoho, we'll see about that, won't we?"_, Charlie pronounced, and proceeded toward Sylar. Panicked, Sylar stumbled backward as he threw the meat tenderizer to distract her. To his horror, he watched as she simply caught the projectile in her hand, and continued descending upon him. Then, without warning, Sylar felt himself thrown off his feet as he tripped, backward, over a chair and landed hard on his back. Opening his eyes, he saw Charlie standing over him; tenderizer at the ready, and a gleam of triumph in her eye.

_"Yummy, yummy!"_, she exclaimed as she swung the tenderizer at his head.

Sylar snapped his eyes shut as he felt the impact of the blow strike the side of his mouth.

_"No! God, no!!!"_, he shouted, as he suddenly found himself sitting upright in his bed.

_"Gabriel!"_, he heard Sarah's frantic voice in the dark, _"Gabriel, I'm sorry! I didn't want to slap you but you wouldn't wake up!"_

He felt Sarah's hand on his forehead, and he realized that he was covered in a cold sweat. Looking around, he realized that he was safely back in his own bed. The moonlight swept across the room through the window, and he could make out the digital clock next to his bed. It was 4:10 am, and Sarah was sitting at the edge of his bed, eyes searching his for some kind of response.

_"Gabriel, are you alright?"_, she asked softly.

Regaining his composure, he nodded and said, _"yeah-yeah I'm fine. Just another nightmare is all."_

_"Gabriel.."_, Sarah replied, uneasily, _"that's like, the fourth time this week. No one has these kinds of nightmares that often."_

_"Yeah"_, Sylar answered, though he knew why he was having these nightmares, _"I guess it's just stress because of my injuries."_

_"Maybe"_, Sarah agreed, uncertainty present in her voice, _"anyway, __now that we're both awake, want some coffee?"_

_"Sure"_, Sylar replied, grateful that he wouldn't have to go walking back into his realm of nightmares.

It had been about a month now that Sylar had been living with Sarah, but it was only in the past week that he had really started having such bad nightmares. They were always vividly gory, and always seemed to feature people whose powers he had stolen in the past.

_"You know Gabe"_, Sarah began (she had recently begun shortening his name), _"you can probably get that nightmare thing checked out. It could be a condition or something."_

_"Yeah, maybe"_, Sylar replied, wondering if she'd still call it a "condition" if she knew the real reason.

She passed him a cup of coffee and proceeded to join him at the kitchen table. Sylar had to admit, it really wasn't so bad being in this situation. He genuinely enjoyed the feeling of security he felt of Sarah and her life, but also hated that, even weeks later, there was no sign of his powers returning. Even his intuitive aptitude was gone, and he couldn't even fix the clock on the kitchen wall—it appeared to have simply just stopped working. Thus, Sylar realized that, even when he recovered, there would be no point in seeking out powers if he had no way of gaining them like he had before. He would have to get some answers first.

On a more positive note, however, his injuries were healing very well. He did not need to wear his sling anymore, and, though he still had casts on his leg and arm, he was able to walk without crutches and could actually get around fairly quickly.

_"Oh!"_, Sarah exclaimed, looking as if a great idea had just hit her, _"Petunia finally had her cubs! Two of them, both males!"_

_"Wow, __good for her."_, Sylar replied, noting the reference Sarah was making of the pregnant lion that she had been taking care of at the zoo. The prospect of her being involved with such wild animals on a regular basis, given her size (she was barely 5'5'' and not very built, though she was decently strong for a woman), was simply astounding to him.

_"Yeah, they're really cute too!"_, she replied enthusiastically, taking a sip of her coffee.

Sylar did feel a little guilty in all of this. He knew that once he had recovered he would have to leave and search for some answers. He was grateful to Sarah for saving him, and, as much as he had grown fond of her, he knew that they would be parting ways soon—as soon as he had a decent means to make it back to New York.

At that moment, there came a knock at the door that made both Sylar and Sarah jump in their seats.

_"Who could that be? It's 4:30 in the morning"_, she said surprised, as she glanced down at her watch.

Sarah exited the kitchen and Sylar heard as she went to the door to greet the guest. He was expecting it to be Jason. He figured he'd show up drunk and expect to crash in Sarah's bed, which would then prompt Sarah to go watch over him. Interestingly enough, Sylar felt a little jealous at the thought. He didn't care that Sarah had a boyfriend, but what would make her fall for someone like _that_.

Easing his mind, however, Sylar listened as Sarah opened the door and greeted the person as a stranger.

_"Um…hey"_, Sarah said, _"can I __help you, officer__?"_

For a moment, Sylar's heart skipped a beat when he heard her say that, but he calmed down when he realized that no one could possibly know he was here.

_"__Hello__, ma'am"_, the officer replied, _"__sorry to bother you at this hour, but it seems __that people are reporting some disturbances in the neighborhood. Apparently, there's a young woman wandering around, claiming to have a gun. We believe her to be suicidal, but we don't have any real reason to believe she's out to deliberately hurt anyone. Do you know anything about this?"_

_"No sir"_, Sarah replied, _"everything's been quiet around here."_

_"Alright then, good to hear"_, the officer replied.

A moment of silence went by before the officer next spoke, saying, _"you wouldn't happen to have anyone else living with you, would you ma'am?"_

_"Just my roommate, officer"_, Sarah replied, with a hint of confusion in her voice, _"his name is Gabriel."_

_"Ah, alright ma'am"_, the officer replied, seeming rather hurried now, _"well you two be careful then. Maybe you should just stay in the house for a __while until this woman is apprehended__."_

_"Sure thing officer, thank you"_, Sarah replied, and bade goodbye to the officer as she closed the door.

Returning to the kitchen, she sat back down and smiled at Sylar.

_"Interesting__"_, Sylar spoke up, _"though why did he pause for such a long time?"_

_"I dunno, he was kinda looking past me to take a better look inside the house"_, Sarah replied coolly.

Feeling a little uneasy again, Sylar asked, _"do you know this officer?"_

_"No, actually"_, Sarah replied with realization, _"I'__ve__ never seen him in this neighborhood before."_

_"Sarah?"_, Sylar asked, nervously, _"what did he look like?"_

_"I dunno"_, Sarah replied, trying to recall his appearance, _"he was pretty tall, though not as tall as you I suppose. And he…had a gun I suppose?"_

_"Ah, ok", _Sylar replied with a slight laugh.

_"Oh!"_, Sarah replied excitedly, as she swallowed another sip of coffee, _"he also had a weird tattoo on his neck. It was like, this S-shaped thing with three little lines coming off of it. I noticed it when he turned to leave. It was on the back of his neck, and I thought that was odd."_

While the description of the man did not sound familiar, there was one detail that did. Yet, before Sylar could even have a chance to say anything, a deafening boom came from the living room and shook the entire apartment and confirming his fears.

Reacting quickly, Sylar grabbed Sarah by the arm and pulled her toward the window that led to the fire escape. He heard shouts and noises as people piled into the apartment. Ignoring every other impulse, he unlocked the windows and grabbed Sarah by the wrist once more.

_"Gabe?!"_, Sarah shrieked in panic, _"what the hell is going on?"_

_"Sarah"_, Sylar said, looking her square in the eye, _"just trust me ok? C'mon!"_

Sarah nodded, and Sylar opened the window as the two climbed out onto the platform. Moving rather quickly, they reached the bottom of it and ran down the alleyway, away from the people who (as far as Sylar could discern) were their would-be captors.

As they rounded another corner, Sarah stopped and asked, in between heavy breathing, _"Gabe, what is going on?"_

_"Sarah, it's not safe yet"_, Sylar answered, _"they'll still be chasing after us once they realize we aren't there."_

_"But WHY?"_, Sarah practically shouted between breaths, _"Why are they after us?"_

_"To be honest"_, Sylar replied, which was true as he didn't know who the officer was (he just recognized the symbol), _"I'm not really sure."_

_"What do you mean? What aren't you telling me Gabriel?"_, Sarah demanded, but was cut off as they realized their would-be captors were now racing down the alleyway toward them.

Without protest, Sarah grasped Sylar's hand and the two ran down the alleyway, crossed the empty road, and proceeded down an alleyway on the other side of the street. However, due to Sylar's leg injury, their pursuers were slowly gaining on them, and he felt hopelessness beginning to overtake him.

As they rounded another corner, they came to an awful sight—a dead end. Sylar felt his heart drop at the sight, yet this wasn't even the worst part. There, lying in front of the wall at the end of the alleyway, were two incredibly large, and (due to intruders in their territory) angry Rottweilers. Snarling, the two dogs got to their feet and began approaching the two helpless humans. To make matters worse, their pursuers came bounding around the corner at that moment. They were stuck between a rock and a hard-place, and Sylar knew that there would be no escape. They'd either be mauled, or taken hostage and likely killed.

Then, in a quick motion, the dogs barked loudly and broke into a run, aimed for Sylar and Sarah.

With a soft scream, Sarah grabbed Sylar's hand and turned her head so her face was buried into his shoulder. Squeezing Sarah's hand hard in return, he snapped his eyes shut also, knowing that in seconds he'd have powerful jaws ripping him apart. Yet, moments went by and, before Sylar could have a chance to open his eyes to investigate, he heard the piercing screams of their pursuers behind them, and heard gun shots as they tried to fend the dogs off.

Eyes snapping open, Sylar and Sarah stared as the dogs darted around, snapping at their pursuers and, at times, sinking their teeth into any part of flesh they could find. For whatever reason, the dogs had bounded past them and into straight into their pursuers. Acting almost in unison, Sarah and Sylar both ran back, past the throng of canine and human, and down the alleyway.

He was confused once again, but, instead of questioning things, he simply continued to run alongside Sarah, leaving the screams of human, snapping of jaws, and shots of guns behind.


	11. A Moment's Peace

**Author's Note:** Just to clarify to the readers, an issue was brought up recently concerning the fact that Sylar doesn't seem worried about his stab wound. When I started the story, it was after Episode 21 of Season 1 (The Hard Part), and therefore the story picks up AU from there. I had this info in my story summary previously, but I took it out so I could fit other information. I hope that clears that up, and I might put that back into the story summary to help keep that clear. Lastly, I've realized that I was italicizing every part of dialogue, and realized that I started it only after I began rewriting the story. It's kind of annoying to me, and I think I only did it before as a means to distinguish dialogue from thought. I may go back and substitute those chapters and fix that, but for now I'm just going to begin writing again with dialogue un-italicized. I hope this doesn't confuse anyone, I just think it might make reading a little easier. As always, thanks for reading and feel free to comment!

_"Laughter is the closest distance between two people."_

-Victor Borge

**A Moment's Peace**

[Sarah's POV

Sarah splashed water on her face as she bent over the sink to clean herself off. She was tired from having run for so long, and the events of the chase had left her feeling incredibly worn out—not to mention very dirty. Most of all though she felt scared. Not only was she being chased, but, from what she could ascertain, Gabriel had something to do with it all. They had been on the run for a little over two days now, and neither had had much time to rest (not to mention eat), and they surely hadn't found any time to elaborate on what was going on. She felt uneasy at the fact that this had something to do with Gabriel though. She didn't like that she had somehow known there was something more to him, and, though she hadn't had a chance to speak with him much yet, she vowed to get answers as soon as the chance arose.

Turning off the water to the sink, she reached for some paper toweling and dried off her face. Tossing the paper into the garbage bin, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and paused for a moment.

_"I look awful"_, she thought, as she stared at her reflection.

Her dark green eyes were mildly bloodshot from lack of sleep, and there were dark bags under them. She had tied her shoulder-length blonde hair up into a bun a few hours back—she couldn't remember exactly when anymore—and her clothes were torn and dirty from having run through a swamp at one point. All in all, she felt as if she had just run an Iron Man, and she knew it would likely not end here.

Exiting the bathroom, she circled around the aisles of the 24hr gas station until she found Gabriel.

"Hey, I'm ready", she stated, as she came to a stop at his side.

"Great", he replied, though she could tell he didn't really think that of the situation, "then we'd better get a move on.

"Do you have any money on you?", he asked her, "we've gotta eat if we're gonna keep this up."

"Well", Sarah began, a little annoyed, "we wouldn't _have_ to keep this up if it weren't for you."

She felt bad. She didn't really _know_ if it was Gabriel's fault, but her lack of sleep and exhaustion was causing her to be in an incredibly foul mood. Why couldn't he just tell her?

"I told you already," Gabriel replied, pretending to pick out food items in an attempt to blend in, "I don't _know_ who they are."

Part of Sarah wanted to believe that he didn't know who they were. Then again, that didn't mean he didn't know _why_ they were after him. For all she knew, he could be an axe murderer! Yet, there was something sincere about him that made her believe otherwise. She didn't know how to describe it, and sometimes she even felt as if she wasn't even talking to him. But other times, she would find herself face-to-face with the most caring and—for lack of a better word—wonderful person she had ever met.

"Alright then", Sarah conceded, "yeah, I do have a little bit of money on me. But shouldn't we save it for…I dunno…a chance to get _far_ away from here?"

"Sure", Gabriel answered sarcastically, "if we wanna die now rather than later, sure."

"You don't have to be like that Gabe", Sarah replied angrily.

"I'm just being realistic Sarah", Gabriel replied, a little annoyed now.

They had been chased for the past two days, and the longest time either of them had rested was a little over two hours. They had to do it in shifts, and even then Sarah found that it was hard to get to sleep with that kind of worry.

She didn't really even know what the people looked like that were chasing them. They were always different. She knew they were often accompanied by a mysterious black car, but that was hardly a reliable tell-tale sign. She never recognized any of their faces either, and moments after laying eyes on them she'd find herself running once again, and Gabriel was usually the first to notice them. Were it not for his quick reactions, she surmised that she probably would not be alive at the moment. They had even been shot at on multiple occasions, and that had answered the burning question that had been on Sarah's mind: Are they out to kill either of us?

Miraculously, the two had made it out of downtown Chicago and into the outskirts. They had found this 24hr gas station—a godsend seeing as it was currently 1:30 am—and had decided to stop while they had a chance to rest for a moment.

"All I'm saying, Gabriel, is that we can't continue on like this much longer", Sarah answered him, the hope in her voice dwindling by the second.

Turning away from the shelves and looking at Sarah, Gabriel replied softly, "I know Sarah…I know."

She hadn't noticed it before, but Gabriel looked even worse than she did (though she still found him oddly-attractive). Despite his complete demeanor of exhaustion, his previous injuries greatly multiplied the effect of pitifulness that was his present exterior. Even worse were the two large (now scabbed-over) scrapes on both of his cheeks, and he had an incredibly large bruise on his left hand; which was the recently-healed of the two (it hadn't been broke), and the other was still in a cast. And, as a perfect complement to how Sarah currently looked, his shirt was torn up as well, and he had a very large mud-stain on his upper-left sleeve from where he had fallen down in the swamp.

"Alright then, here's what I've got", Sarah answered, handing Gabriel her only twenty dollars she had, "buy whatever you want, and I'll wait at the door."

With that, Sarah walked out of the gas station and into the cool night. It was actually much colder than it had been for a while, but that did not surprise her as it was nearing the end of October. She was lucky there hadn't been a snowfall yet. Breathing in deeply, she savored the moment of tranquility and cast her head up to gaze at the stars.

"Alright, we're ready", came Gabriel's voice as he exited the store with two bags in his hands, causing Sarah to snap back to reality.

"Great", Sarah replied, trying to stay as positive as she could, "Then, where should we be head-", she continued, but was cut off as she noticed a familiar black car pulling into the parking lot of the gas station.

Immediately and instinctively, Sarah grabbed Gabriel's wrist and pulled him as she darted around to the side of the gas station. As they peered around, they watched as men, dressed in all black—how cliché Sarah thought—step out and proceed into the store. One of them she recognized as the man who had posed as a cop at her apartment a few days ago—"S-shaped tattoo" and all.

"We don't have much time", Gabriel stated, and Sarah knew he was right.

However they were able to keep following them, Sarah knew that, once they realized they weren't in the building, it wouldn't be long before they were being chased once more. They needed to find some way to get them off their trail. Or, at the very least, they had to figure out a way to travel a large distance—preferably without stopping and one the required no walking.

And then, as if some cosmic prayer had been answered, Sarah watched as another vehicle pulled into the parking lot: a large semi pulling a trailer of, what appeared to be, Port-a-potties. It looked to be some sort of delivery truck for them (likely headed to some carnival of sorts), but to Sarah, these tall, blue pieces of heaven were their ticket out of here.

"C'mon!", Sarah exclaimed, as she pulled Gabriel to the trailer.

"Those better be clean", Gabriel answered in realization, as he followed Sarah to the trailer-end of the large truck.

As Gabriel hoisted her up, she climbed onto the flatbed and grabbed the two bags from him as he then pulled himself up.

The flatbed had about twenty of them on it, but they were all very tightly packed and they could only get into one of those on the trailer-end. Once they had squeezed into the tight opening (as they couldn't get the door completely open in its current position), they found themselves packed like sardines into the enclosed space. She was literally inches from Gabriel's body, and she found herself feeling a little odd. He didn't repulse her by any means, but she felt it very unnerving to be breaking the "physical bubble" with someone she hadn't known very long.

"Well", Gabriel spoke up, with a nervous smirk, "at least these aren't used."

Letting out the first even sign of laughter that she had in days, Sarah giggled as she replied, "Yeah, I was worried when I saw the slogan on the side of the trailer!"

Thoroughly confused, Gabriel cocked his eyebrow at her as if asking her what she meant.

"You didn't see it?", she practically burst out.

"No", Gabriel replied, puzzled, "What did it say?"

Stifling another giggle, Sarah recited pointedly, "It said, 'You Shit, We Ship!'"

For a moment, the two simply stared at one another. And then, as if days of pent-up stress and fear were being washed away, they both found themselves laughing hysterically. Sarah clutched Gabriel's shoulder to steady herself as she was practically doubled over with fits of laughter, and Gabriel found himself trying to wipe away the tears that were now flowing out of his eyes as he continued to laugh.

Only when the semi suddenly sputtered back to life did the two stop laughing, and even then they found it hard to contain. The trailer jerked as the driver pulled out of the parking lot, and Sarah was thrown into Gabriel. Pulling herself away, she blushed as she looked up into his smiling face.

"Maybe", Gabriel began, "we should sit down."

"Yeah," Sarah agreed, as they both sat down in the incredibly small space that was the toilet seat.

A few minutes went by in which neither of the two spoke. The silence was a welcome companion now, and, save for the sound of the semi racing along down the highway and the wind brushing past their Port-a-Potty, they relished in the temporary calming of this new sanctuary.

Without really realizing it, Sarah yawned and found her eyes beginning to droop. She wanted nothing more than to sleep now, and with the warmth of her and Gabriel's bodies beginning to fill the enclosed space, she found the idea more and more enticing.

"Gabe?", she asked sleepily, "Do you think it's safe for us to sleep now?"

"Oh…yeah", Gabriel replied, "We should be in here for a few hours at least, and this truck is likely head-", but he was cut off as Sarah, who had seemingly gotten her answer already, slumped to her side and fell fast asleep on Gabriel's shoulder.

A little stunned, Gabriel simply smiled and closed his own eyes and gladly succumbed to his own pangs of sleep.


	12. The Whole Truth?

**Author's Note:** Hey all! Sorry about the lack of update! It's been a couple days since the last one, but I've been busy with mid-terms and studying so I haven't had as much of a chance. But now I have a bit more free time so I plan on updating more often now. I hope you are all enjoying it, and any suggestions and/or comments would be tremendously appreciated. If it seems like things are going a bit slow, I apologize. It is truly my intention to write it this way, and I promise things will pick up very shortly. Once again, thanks to all of those that choose to read this. It means a lot to me that even a few people out there enjoy (at least I hope that's why you're reading this) my work! Thanks!

**The Whole Truth?**

_"The truth is more important than the facts."_

-Frank Lloyd Wright

[Sylar's POV

As the semi made a rather abrupt turn around a bend in the road, the trailer swerved and shook, causing Sylar to wake with a start. He couldn't tell exactly, but he guessed that very little time had passed since he had nodded off, as it was still dark. The port-a-potty had small lights in its corners for when they were used at night, and they cast a faint and comfortable glow throughout the small space.

Sarah shifted softly in her sleep, and Sylar's attention was drawn to her as her hand now rested warily on his thigh. He smirked at the situation and loved the fact that, despite everything they had been through, she still managed to look amazing.

These past weeks, and especially the past few days, had been an odd experience for him. It's not as if he'd never been attracted to anyone else before. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Rather, he had been so caught up in his own plans and motives the past few months that he had simply never found the opportunity.

_"Or"_, Sylar thought to himself, _"perhaps he had just never found the right person."_

He had to admit, there was something different about Sarah. There was a genuine honesty, compassion, and determination about her that he found truly enthralling. She seemed like the type of person to go after what she loved regardless of what other people thought. And sure, she had her faults—like that real piece of work she called a boyfriend—but who didn't; certainly not himself as he was coming to realize. Despite her seemingly-ordinary life she had led thus far, she had some amazingly extraordinary qualities about her. Not only that, but she was the closest thing he had had to a "friend" since probably Mohinder.

The semi made another abrupt swerve as it bounded down the highway, and this time Sarah stirred as the entire trailer shook roughly.

"Hey you", she yawned as she sat up, giving an embarrassed smile when she realized she had been using him as a pillow.

"Hey", Sylar answered, as he watched her push back stray strands of hair from her face.

"Any idea where we are?", she asked simply, to which Sylar shook his head.

"Nah. I'm guessing not too far away from Chicago, though, as it's still really dark out", Sylar replied.

"You're right", Sarah agreed, looking down at her watch, "it's only 3:47. We've only been asleep for a little over two hours."

"Yeah, maybe we should get back to sleep, lord knows we need it", Sylar responded.

"Gabe, wait", Sarah blurted, "I've been running for days now. I'm tired, hungry, dirty, and I've tried not to say much until now."

"But..could you please just fill me in on _what_ is going on? I can't handle not knowing much longer", Sarah finished.

"Well", Sylar began hesitantly, unsure of exactly what to say, "like I told you, I don't know who they are really, and I definitely don't know why they're after me."

"Gabe", Sarah sighed exasperatedly, "can you please, for once, just tell me the _truth_?"

"I am Sarah", Sylar replied, a bit annoyed, "the only reason I know those guys are bad news is because of that symbol. You know, the "S-shaped" tattoo on that guy's neck?"

Sarah responded with a nod, but then spoke up to ask another question, "How, Gabriel? How do you know they are bad?"

"You mean other than the fact that they blasted into your apartment and have been chasing us with guns for a few days now?", Sylar asked sarcastically, eliciting an eye-roll from Sarah, "well, if these people are involved with the same company I'm thinking of, then they are the same people who kidnapped me a while back."

With a look of utter horror on her face, Sarah asked in a concerned voice, "Gabe, what…why would they do that?"

"They did it because I was…special", Sylar answered honestly.

"I don't think I understand, Gabriel", Sarah replied slowly, looking even more confused than before.

Sylar didn't know what exactly to say to her. He couldn't admit to the one person he currently had in his life that he had murdered people (no matter how undeserving they were) for their powers—surely she wouldn't understand his reasoning or motives—but at the same time, he didn't want to outright lie. She had a right to know why she was stuck in this mess. For all her kindness, she deserved to know.

_"She probably wouldn't believe me anyway"_, Sylar thought to himself.

"Basically, they kidnapped me and ran these…tests on me", Sylar answered, choosing his words carefully, "they thought I had these…I guess you'd call them 'super powers'."

"Well, did you…or do you?", Sarah asked curiously, catching Sylar off guard with her line of questioning. He hadn't expected her to believe in such things, and now he had to think of something to say.

"To be honest, I did", Sylar answered back, "I used to restore timepieces, like I told you before.

"And, for whatever reason, I was always good at it because I could just…_ see_ how things worked. You know? I could see how the parts fit together to make up the whole.", Sylar continued.

When Sarah did not answer, he decided to elaborate even further, "Eventually I realized, through that 'Activating Evolution' book, that what I could do was no mere skill. It was…destiny.

"I wanted to take my power even further, though. I wanted to use it to better myself even more. And, once I started, I attracted the attention of these people, and I guess they feel that they're not quite done with me yet. Judging by their gunfire, I'd say they probably want to kill me now." Sylar finished, feeling satisfied with his answer. He hadn't lied; he just hadn't told Sarah all the facts. And, much to his liking, Sarah did not press the topic any further.

"That's terrible, Gabe", Sarah replied remorsefully, "that must have been awful…being treated like an experiment."

"It's alright", Sylar replied, "It's over, or at least I thought it was."

"This is just so much to handle", Sarah spoke, seemingly still processing all the information.

"Yeah", Sylar agreed, "I'm just sorry that I got you involved in this. I told you, you should have just let me find a way back home. Better yet, you should have left me in the alley-"

"Stop, Gabriel!", Sarah whispered, fiercely, "I didn't come all this way to have you say something like that."

"Look, Sarah, I'm thankful that you did help me, but if you would have just-", Sylar continued, but was cut off once more.

"Enough!", Sarah practically shrieked, causing Sylar to jump a bit, "I won't let you blame yourself for my actions. Regardless of who or what they're after, we're in this together! We'll figure this out as we go, but the last thing we need is to be fighting over who gets to feel sorry for themselves."

Unsure of exactly what he should say, and knowing that Sarah was right, Sylar simply nodded to her in agreement.

"Besides", Sarah continued, "we can't blame ourselves that some evil people are out to hurt innocent people for their own gain."

"Yeah", Sylar agreed, though he did so very hesitantly.

The truth of the matter was that her words had struck him. Had he done the same thing? He had never given it _too_ much though, to be honest. Yes he had felt some pangs of guilt for what he had done, but he had always chalked that up to being some manifestation of his former persona, Gabriel. But as it stared him in the face, he found himself wondering these very questions. Is what's happening now really any different than what he did to those people? Truth be told, he had actually fared better, as he was still alive. And worst of all, he found himself almost torn. Part of him truly believed that what he had done was wrong (a part of him he hadn't dealt with in a long time), but, conversely, another part of him—a more familiar part at that—assured him that it had all been a necessity; an evolutionary imperative.

"Well, thanks Gabriel", Sarah said, as she stifled a yawn, "for letting me know about what's going on. It's nice not to be in the dark so much."

"Yeah, heh, no problem", Sylar replied, "now maybe you should get back to sleep. You definitely look like you could use it."

"Ouch," Sarah replied, feigning as if she were hurt, "look who's talking!"

"Yeah, yeah", Sylar said with a smile, "goodnight Sarah."

"Goodnight Gabe", Sarah replied, as she laid her head on the wall and closed her eyes.

Sylar did the same, and found himself drifting off to sleep within moments. Yet, as the semi made another wide turn in the road, he felt a familiar plop as Sarah—sound asleep even before him—slid to her side and ended up resting on him once more. In his last few moments of consciousness, he could only think of how much comfort the act had truly brought him.


	13. Persistence

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! Sorry about the lack of update…again. For those of you that are reading, I really hope you haven't forgotten my story! This chapter is a bit longer (actually, my longest thus far), due to the fact that I haven't updated in so long. Again, sorry about that and I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter. Things will likely be picking up much more now, and I hope things turn out how I envision. It's one thing to have an idea in your head, and it's a completely different story trying to convey it in writing. As always, _please_ read and respond! Comments rock, and I'd love any input of any kind. I have a set plan as to what I'd like to happen, but new ideas and suggestions to add in can never hurt. Once again, thanks everyone!

_"We are made to persist. That is how we find out who we are."_

-Tobias Wolff

**Persistence **

Sylar hopped down from the trailer after checking that they weren't being watched, and then grabbed Sarah's hand as she followed him. The semi had apparently reached its destination, as the two now found themselves in a parking lot of a large fairgrounds.

Despite the many rides, booths, and arrays of colorful decorations that the fair exhibited, the thing that came to Sylar's mind first was just how cold it was this particular morning. Chicago had been cold enough, but here it was even worse, and Sylar guessed that they had likely traveled farther north. Coupled with the fact that they were both very hungry (gas station snacks really didn't do much for hunger) and neither had showered in a few days, they were both feeling very negatively in their current situation.

"What time is it anyway?", Sylar asked Sarah.

Looking down at her watch, Sarah answered, "Only 9:10; I guess that's one good thing…we both had a good night of much-needed sleep."

"Yeah", Sylar agreed, "hopefully the first of many."

Sarah nodded, and motioned as she began to walk away from the semi and from the fairgrounds. They turned out of the entrance to the park, which bore a large banner reading, "Celebrate Oktoberfest!!". Sylar followed alongside Sarah as they began walking down toward—according to a road sign—a town called Magnolia, which was 5 miles away.

The road was quiet, save for the occasional strong gust of autumn wind, and there were no houses visible in any direction. The sky was overcast in a dull gray, but even darker clouds of gray were beginning to roll in, and Sylar began to fear that they'd be caught in the rain.

Sarah sighed to Sylar's left, and spoke up as she rubbed her arms for warmth, "We're probably both gonna catch pneumonia."

"Are you feeling alright?", Sylar asked, a bit concerned that Sarah had suddenly mentioned the weather.

"Yeah, yeah", Sarah answered hastily, "I was just saying, it's really cold, too bad we aren't more prepared is all."

Sylar knew she had a point. While they weren't by any means in clothes that were inappropriate for the weather, they weren't exactly comfortable at the present either. It had to be under 40 degrees here (wherever that was), and the only thing they had for this cold was that they both had sweatshirts on.

"Yeah", Sylar agreed, "a hat and a jacket would be really nice right now; maybe even some gloves."

"Haha, yeah", Sarah laughed, "And I could just see you in one of those winter hats with the little puff-ball on the top.

"Oh, and a long, frilly scarf!", she teased, smiling as she elbowed him playfully.

"Funny", Sylar answered, sarcastically.

He appreciated the humor, but he also sensed that something was wrong. Sure they were both feeling like crap, but she hadn't spoken much since they had woken up this morning. They had been up about an hour before the semi had actually stopped at the fairgrounds, but in that entire time Sylar guessed that she had said only a couple words.

The two continued to walk down the road in silence, with nothing but the swaying of the trees and the oddly-frequent bird chirps.

"Wow", Sylar stated, "there sure are a lot of birds out for this time of year."

Sarah nodded in agreement, and looked up at the bare branches of the trees, saying, "yeah, look at them all."

There indeed were dozens of birds lining the branches of the trees on either side of the road, and it was as if they had all been attracted to the same location. And, though he knew it had to be his imagination, Sylar thought that they all seemed to be watching him and Sarah intently.

Sylar didn't like the situation even more with each passing minute. The sky was darkening to a chilling degree, and the eerie screeching of the birds reverberated through the thicket as the howling wind swept through once more.

"Christ", Sarah murmured in desperation, "could it get any worse?"

Sylar opened his mouth to speak, but his sentiments were resounding as a tremendous boom of thunder echoed across the sky, followed by a sudden downpour of torrential rain.

"You just had to ask, huh?", Sylar asked sarcastically, as they both threw up their hoods and quickened their pace. The rain was rocketing downward, and the combined efforts of each drop began to feel like painful stings as they hit his face. Within minutes, the two were soaked almost completely through their clothes, and they found themselves sloshing through puddles that formed in the dips of the road.

Now practically power-walking, the two pressed onward through the darkness of the morning storm. As they rounded a corner of the road, a bright pair of headlights came flying around it from the opposite direction. Almost instinctively, Sylar grabbed Sarah's wrist and pulled her out of the way as he dove onto the shoulder of the road, skidding to a stop in the mud.

The driver of the car (obviously realizing what he had almost done) immediately applied the brakes, and moments later the car screeched to a halt. As the driver got out, and began to run over to them, several things happened at once.

Sylar crawled over to Sarah to check if she was alright. Yet, before he had opened his mouth to ask, he got his answer.

"God damnit!", Sarah screeched in pain, causing Sylar to find himself taken aback by her uncharacteristic outburst.

Literally moments after she had cried out, a fury of screeching sounds burst through the roaring of the rain. Moreover, in almost the same instant, dozens—possibly hundreds—of dark shadows plummeted from the treetops and swarmed around the driver; pelting, scratching, and pecking in anger.

"Oh my God!", Sarah cried, suddenly horrified at the sight of an army of birds attacking the driver. The man let out cries of pain as he tried to shield himself from the onslaught, flailing around in retaliation and attempting to cover his face at the same time. Then, seconds after Sarah had cried out, the attack stopped and the black mass rocketed upwards; back to their safety in the treetops.

Sylar helped Sarah to her feet, causing her to wince in pain when she tried to walk.

"What's wrong", Sylar asked, concerned.

"My ankle", Sarah responded with a grimace, "I think it might be a sprain."

Nodding, Sylar took Sarah's arm over his shoulder, and the two walked over to the driver of the car. Reaching him, Sylar saw that, though he had some rather nasty scrapes on his face and numerous tears in his jacket, he seemed to be alright.

"Are you two alright?", the man asked immediately.

"I was going to ask you the same thing", Sylar responded.

"Yeah", the man replied with a laugh, "I dunno what the hell _that_ was about, but I'm ok. It wasn't as bad as it probably looked. Really, most of em' just kept crashing into me. Freaking weird."

"Yeah, from where we were it was terrifying", Sarah agreed, waving her wet hair out of her face.

Sylar had to support her once more as she winced in pain and tried to shift her position. The man, noticing this frowned in concern.

"You sure you're both alright? I didn't hit either of you did I?", he asked, clearly worried.

"It's probably just a sprain", Sarah answered, "and no, you didn't hit me. I just landed on it wrong is all."

"Still, it is completely my fault", the man stated, "you shouldn't have had to dive out of the way like you did. And I shouldn't have been driving that fast, especially in these conditions."

"Really, don't worry about it", Sarah replied, though it was to no avail.

"Even still, I feel really bad", the man stated, and then asked, "Where are you two headed? And why are you walking out in the rain?"

"We were…just headed out to the fairgrounds!", Sylar stammered out, rather enthusiastically.

"But", the man began, looking confused, "Oktoberfest isn't until next Monday."

"Oh, yeah", Sarah chimed in, "we realized that once we got there. We are just kind of visiting, and we didn't know it wasn't up and running yet."

"Ah, I see then. Were you two headed to town then?", the man asked.

"Yeah, actually", Sylar answered this time, "though we don't have any place to stay."

"Well, why is that?", the man asked, looking a bit skeptical now.

"Because—because we took a bus here", Sylar answered.

Sarah squeezed Sylar's shoulder hard, indicating that he was making them look more and more suspicious by the second.

"I—I don't think I follow", the man said, clearly unsure of these two new strangers.

"Oh, haha", Sarah piped up once more, "what he meant was we took a bus here from our hometown, because our car is being repaired right now.

"We were going to just spend the day here, then we were going to catch the bus later on to go back", Sarah continued.

"Yeah, but when we found out it was closed we decided to walk to the nearest town", Sylar continued, building on Sarah's story, "And then, as you see now, we ended up getting caught in the rain before we could even get there. All in all, a very bad day", Sylar finished, hoping the story was satisfactory enough.

"Ah, I see", the man replied, apparently experiencing a dawning of realization, "you guys from Beaver Creek then?"

"Yes", Sylar replied instantly, remembering that name from the road sign they had seen earlier.

"Ah, well I'd offer to drive you guys back home, but that'd be pretty far out of my way, ya know?", the man stated, "but you guys can come stay the rest of the day and tonight at my place if you want? I actually live in Magnolia. Then, I could give you both a ride back home tomorrow?"

"That'd be great!", Sarah replied.

Sylar was a bit worried about this, as the man was a complete stranger. Yet, with an encouraging smile from Sarah, coupled with the fact that he knew she needed to get off her feet and dried off, he nodded in reply to the man.

"Great, hop in then", the man urged, and the three of them proceeded to climb into his car.

Later that night, back at the man's house, Sylar and Sarah sat on the couch in the man's living room which, to their delight, had a fireplace. The man had proved more than hospitable too. He had made them lunch and dinner, which was the first actual meal the two had had in days. He had given them both changes of clothes (apparently he had older children that had moved away yet left their old clothes at home), and he had even prepared a guest room for them to stay in. It was about 11:00 pm now, and the man had bade the two goodnight and proceeded to his room on the second floor of the house.

The warmth that the fireplace radiated was an all-too-welcome change from the cold and discomfort he had felt recently, and Sylar felt better than he had in a long time.

"I still can't get over it", Sarah spoke up, catching Sylar's attention.

"What's that?", Sylar asked, taking a sip of hot chocolate that the man had graciously provided them.

"The birds", Sarah replied, "I mean, I know we'd decided they were just frightened by the storm, but still; that many birds attacking a single person because of a storm?"

"I wouldn't worry about it", Sylar answered, "sure it's not something you see every day, but weirder things have happened."

Sarah nodded hesitantly, and then said, "Alright, well, I'm going to go to bed now. I'm so tired, and I think I might be coming down with a cold."

"Ok, I'll help you down there then", Sylar answered, as he stood up, grabbed Sarah's hand, and proceeded to help her down the hallway and to their guest room.

A few minutes later, they had reached the room and Sylar had helped her to the bedside.

"Alright, I'm actually going to stay up a bit longer. Maybe watch some TV or something", Sylar lied.

He actually wanted some time alone to think. He still had a lot of questions on his mind, and needed to figure out a way to get the answers. A part of him felt guilty, though, as he knew it would likely mean parting ways with Sarah. And she had sacrificed so much for him, that he knew it would be unfair. Yet, there was another part of him that needed to get back on track; needed to get back to normal.

"Ok then", Sarah replied, a bit sleepily, "Goodnight Gabe."

"Goodnight Sarah", Sylar smiled, and turned to exit the room.

"Gabe", Sarah said moments later, with a tone of urgency.

"Yeah?", Sylar asked, as he turned around to face her once more.

But Sarah didn't say anything. Rather, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. Sylar, a bit taken aback, simply returned the gesture a bit awkwardly. It was such a simple gesture, yet it seemed so foreign to him. It was truly the first genuine hug he'd received in months (at least from a friend), and he felt both strange yet amazingly comforted by it. And, if only for a few moments, it seemed as if all of his problems had been washed away.

"Thanks Gabe", Sarah said, her head resting on his shoulder, "thanks for everything."

"Y-yeah", Sylar replied slowly, as Sarah pulled away and he stared into her dark green eyes, "no problem."

"Ok", Sarah smiled, "goodnight then."

"Goodnight Sarah", Sylar replied, as he once again turned to exit the room.

Moments later, he sat back down on the couch. The events of the past days began filling his head as he watched the flames of the fire dance around. He had so many questions, and every day seemed to add more to the pile. The worst part of it all, was that he had no real way of getting any answers. He needed to find the man that had come to him in his dreams. Then again, who's to say that he is even real? The endless questions simply made his head spin, and with each passing moment his eyes were getting heavier and heavier. And then, with the combination of the fire's warmth, the dancing of the embers in the fireplace, and the violent winds of the still-raging storm outside, he found himself slowly drifting off to sleep.

An incredible sound of smashing glass was the next thing that Sylar heard, causing him to wake abruptly. He looked around and tried to get his bearings in the now pitch-black living room. The fire had been reduced to lightly-smoldering embers, and he realized that an incredibly powerful wind was surging through a nearby window. Staggering up to close it, Sylar realized that it was not an option, as the entire window had been shattered. In fact, he noticed as he looked around, every window in the living room and adjoining kitchen had been shattered, and the howling of the wind was insanely intense.

And suddenly, amidst the chaos, Sylar realized something else was wrong. There were muddy boot prints throughout the kitchen, and in that instant it dawned on him that he had been hearing loud stomping in the floor above him, as well as in a nearby hallway. And, as if fate had decided he needed an indication, his worst fears were confirmed moments later.

"Ahh!", he heard Sarah's voice piercing through the screaming of the wind, "No! Get the hell away from me!"

Immediately Sylar raced through the darkness, fumbling his way toward the guest room where he knew Sarah was.

"Sarah?!", Sylar screamed, as if his voice was some kind of deterrence to whomever was apparently going after her.

He burst through the door to the guest room, and found a man standing at the foot of the bed. The two windows on the side of the room were broken, and wind was tossing things in the room around like ragdolls. Also, aided very much by the high gusts of wind, the entire room was being soaked by the torrent of rain that was now streaming through the windows.

"Who the hell are you?", Sylar snarled, causing the man to turn around and face him.

It was dark, so Sylar couldn't make out many features, but he, instead, got his answer from Sarah.

"It's him, Gabe!", Sarah shrieked, "the fake police officer. See, he has the tattoo on the back-", she continued, but was cut off as the man wheeled around and stuck her face with the back of his hand.

Almost immediately, Sylar leapt forward in retaliation. However, the man wheeled around once more and held up his hand causing Sylar to be shot backward by what seemed to be a gust of wind, landing hard into the closet door.

"Nice try Gabriel", the man laughed menacingly, "but maybe you should stay out of this one."

"I'm right here!", Sylar spat, as he staggered up onto one knee, "she has nothing to do with this. Leave her alone."

The man simply laughed and took a few steps forward so he was standing directly over Sylar.

"Oh Gabriel; dear, dear Gabriel", the man cooed, sickeningly, "Who ever said we were after you?"

Sylar's eyes widened in realization, and he watched as Sarah's face took on a look of absolute horror.

Sylar tried to get up onto his feet, but he found himself thrown into a wall by another burst of gale-force wind, his head hitting the wall hard this time. As he slid onto the floor in a heap, he heard Sarah's cries for help, and realized, as the darkness overtook him, that he'd give anything to have been able to help.


	14. False Sanctuary

**Author's Note:** Yes, I must apologize again. For those of you reading, I am sorry for the long wait in regards to updates. School is simply swamping me most of the time. However, after today (Thursday), I will once again be done with exam week, so I will try my hardest to get out several more chapters after that, and I will try to make it so they are not spread apart so much. As always, thanks to those that are still reading this (you really have no idea how much it means that even a few people find my story interesting enough to keep reading), and _please_ feel free to leave comments! If anything, I'd really just like more feedback on my story to possibly help with fresh ideas and such. Thanks all!

_"While there's life, there's hope."_

-Cicero

**False Sanctuary**

[Sarah's POV

Sarah awoke to the sound of hurried, yet hushed voices from somewhere nearby. She couldn't discern what they were saying, though, as she felt disoriented, weak, and incredibly exhausted. Moreover, her eyes felt as if they were held shut by fifty pound weights, and the strain to open them felt as if it could take all the energy she possessed.

As she let out a soft groan, and rolled feebly onto one of her sides, the voices nearby suddenly quieted and had obviously become aware of her consciousness.

"Finally awake are we?", came a familiar voice from nearby.

Forcing her eyes open, Sarah blinked several times as she tried to take in her surroundings and make the room come into a clearer focus.

The room she was in was entirely white. From the walls and ceiling, to her bed, sheets, and even her clothes; the entire room was void of any color and, for that matter, feeling. On top of that, it was rather cold in the room also, and the blankets she was provided didn't do much to ease the discomfort.

The men in front of her, however, were the only things currently present that were not white. One man, who had dark skin and hair, she did not recognize, but the other she recognized as the man with the tattoo on his neck; the man who had been chasing her and Gabriel for weeks.

"What's going on?", Sarah asked, feebly, straining her eyes in the bright room, "Where am I?"

The man made a noise as if he were about to speak, but was interrupted a moment later by the other man.

"I still say you made a truly immense mistake, but I suppose we'll continue this later", the other man stated angrily, and, with a quick glance at Sarah, walked briskly out of the room.

The Tatoo Man simply let out a snicker, and strode to the edge of Sarah's bed. Taking a seat in a chair nearby, he sat down and addressed her.

"So, how are you feeling today?", the man asked, rather calmly and lacking any genuine compassion.

"Fine", Sarah lied, and then continued as her thoughts spewed out in the form of questions, "but what's going on? Who was that man? What mistake did you make? Where am-"

"Please, dear", the man interrupted, making Sarah cringe slightly, "calm down. All of your questions will be answered, just one at a time, please."

"Alright then", Sarah said pointedly, "where am I?"

"You are in the protective care of the company I work for", the man said almost proudly.

"_Protective care?_", Sarah asked, dumfounded, "You chase me, shoot at me, and then kidnap me and it's apparently for my protection?"

"We do what we must", the man answered, truly unaffected by Sarah's state of disbelief.

Feeling rather angry and mildly frustrated, Sarah asked, "And what, might I ask, am I being protected _from_?"

"Why, those who would seek to harm you of course", the man replied gleefully.

"And why would people suddenly want to harm me?", Sarah asked.

The man simply stared at her with an ever-so-slight grin on his face, and then asked, "You honestly have no idea?"

"No", Sarah answered, a little annoyed, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on Sarah!", the man replied a little louder, "you've never had anything happen to you that you thought was odd? Nothing ever out of the ordinary?"

Sarah was unsure of what to say. Who _hadn't_ ever had something strange happen to them? Honestly, his questions were completely unproductive, and were only continuing to make Sarah more confused and angry.

"I still don't get what you mean, sorry", Sarah replied crossly, "nothing strange recently that I can recall."

"Liar!", the man practically shouted at her, "either your memory is truly awful or you're not telling me the whole truth."

"I swear, I don't remember anything", Sarah shouted back, not liking how heated the situation was getting.

"Oh?", the man asked, astounded, "well I have two agents with serious canine bite wounds that would beg to differ!"

"I don't see how that involves m-", Sarah began, but was cut off.

"_And_, I have another friend that seems to have suffered an attack by a random flock of birds; all because he wanted to stop and help a young couple stranded in a storm. But I'm sure you know nothing about that one either?", the man asked, sarcastically.

"Like I was going to say", Sarah retorted, angrily, "I don't see what that has to do with me."

Sighing heavily, the man spoke again, "Oh christ, just _think_ about it Sarah! You were present during both events. In both events, you experienced some kind of intense emotional feeling. And lastly, in both cases, the animals clearly responded in some kind of reaction to how you were feeling."

As the realization dawned on her, Sarah felt a slight shock wash over her. Was it really her that had done it? She always felt that both situations seemed a bit too coincidental, yet she had written them off as such.

"That's kinda unfair to go and say I'm the one that caused those things to happen," Sarah started again, "they both were just big coincidences."

"Ah, I suppose that's possible", the man replied, "but have you ever wondered, just why is it that you are so good with animals. I mean, it's even your profession, isn't it? Think about it, you can walk through the lion and tiger exhibits without even a glance from them, and when is the last time you heard of a vet who could reach her arm into an alligator's mouth to dislodge a large piece of metal that had pierced the roof of its mouth? Odd, wouldn't you agree?"

Sarah didn't know what to say, as she felt simply overwhelmed at the moment. How did this man know so much about her and her job? Moreover, she had never in her wildest dreams thought that her talents were the results of some unknown ability. And, like she had learned from Gabriel and her friend's Activating Evolution book, people with powers like hers apparently could and did exist in the real world. Yet, to fathom that she had (for lack of a better description) the power to _control_, animals seemed beyond her.

"I can tell that you're starting to see what I mean", the man replied, obviously pleased with himself.

"I still don't fully believe this", Sarah replied shakily, "but I still don't see how it would be in anyone's interest to harm me over such a… 'power'."

"Yes, well, therein lies the problem doesn't it?", the man agreed, and continued, "You see, the extent of your powers are unknown, we just know that you have _some_ kind of effect on animals.

"The big question for us is whether or not it is a conscious or subconscious process, and", the man paused for a moment, with a serious look on his face, "what the…limitations…on such an ability could be."

"Wait", Sarah blurted, "how exactly are you so sure that I actually do have an effect on them? I mean, from where I stand, it still could be a coincidence."

The man smiled, and said, "I'm so glad you asked that! You see, we have been watching you for _quite_ some time. Ever since we saw the article about you in National Geographic we were a bit intrigued. You know, the one about how you were apparently renowned for having an inexplicable affinity for handling animals, and how you stopped an escaped lion simply by 'talking it down', as you so quaintly put it."

Sarah nodded, remembering the odd situation. She had been praised for months for what she had done, but when asked how she had gotten the animal to calm down, all she could suggest was that, "It must have just felt calmer around me, as I spend good portions of each day taking care of them."

The man, noticing that Sarah had nodded and agreed with him, continued by saying, "Yes, well, once we heard that story, we weren't so hurried to accept that it had all been a mere miracle.

"We decided to keep an eye on you, and eventually we came to find that, for whatever reason, animals were never a danger when you were present. We came to the conclusion that you had to have _some_ kind of ability. And thus we decided that we needed to help you by getting you to the safety of our facility. As you can see we have succeeded", the man finished, with a slight air of pride.

"Alright then, so what happens next", Sarah asked.

"Next", the man began, "we figure out exactly what the details of your abilities are."

"Alright, and how will we go about doing that?", Sarah asked, feeling a bit more comfortable. These people seemed as if they'd truly like to help her, and she could at least be grateful for that.

"We'll likely run some tests", the man replied, "things dealing with animals. You know, we want to see how it is you do what you do."

"Great, and once you figure that all out we'll decide where I can go to live in safety again, right?", Sarah asked.

"Sarah, I thought we had already established that", the man answered, with a confused look on his face, "this _is_ where you'll be safe. You won't be allowed to leave."

Sarah's heart skipped a beat as the man said this, and she frantically replied, "You mean I can't leave? Ever?! "

"Of course you can't!", the man said, as if it should have been some obvious fact.

"So basically I'm a prisoner?", Sarah shrieked, causing the man to back up a bit.

"Only if you choose to view it that way", the man said calmly, "and please do calm down."

"Like hell I'll calm down!", Sarah screamed, as she sat up and began to stand up from the bed, "you kidnapped me and now you're holding me prisoner, there is no other way of looking at it!"

"I promise, you'll come to understand it and maybe even begin to like it here", the man said, with an attempt at reassurance in his voice, "you'll eventually love the experiments and how they help you develop your powers! But please, Sarah, do sit down."

"No!", Sarah shouted, "I won't help you with your little experiments, and I sure as hell won't sit down!"

The man's eyes narrowed in a scowl, and he replied, "do as you're told Sarah."

Sarah recoiled with disgust at his order.

"I don't know who you think you are, but you can go to he-", she began, but was cut off as she let out a sudden, violent cough and felt her throat tighten.

The man stood over her with a vicious grin on his face. Holding his hand above her he spoke, "as you now know Sarah, you aren't the only one with these little abilities."

Sarah tried to inhale but found that she could get no oxygen. She could feel her throat muscles moving, but it was almost indescribable in feeling. There was no air getting down her windpipe, and she felt paralyzed as she made silent gasps for air.

"Mine", the man laughed, "well, I guess you could say I have this little affinity for manipulating the air; currents and such."

Sarah fell to her knees as she clutched her throat and chest to somehow help. She was beginning to feel lightheaded, and her lungs were burning from lack of oxygen.

"Needless to say, as I'm sure you're noticing now, it has some incredible advantages. You can't take a breath if I don't allow any air to move through your lungs.

"And that's not even the extent of my ability", the man continued, as Sarah crawled toward him and beat on his legs, feebly.

"Like this, for example," the man said, as he flicked his hand and Sarah felt a powerful force propel her into the wall to her left.

As much as it hurt, she felt a rush of relief as she found herself able to take a large, gasping breath as she slid to the floor.

Walking over, the man stood over her and grinned. Grabbing her by the hair, he yanked her head up so she could see his face.

"Now, Sarah", the man said slowly, "you will do as you are told, and you will take part in our experiments. Is that understood?"

As Sarah still gasped for breath, she nodded weakly.

"Good", the man replied, "now, perhaps you should get some more rest."

With that, the man turned released his hold on Sarah and strode out of the room. Moments later, the light left the room and Sarah plunged into darkness.

She crawled and fumbled around toward her bed and pulled herself into it. Her heart was still racing from what had just happened, and she found herself sobbing uncontrollably now. She had never felt this alone in her entire life, and yet, as she lay there shaking and sobbing, she realized that, no matter how hard it was, she could not give up hope. About twenty minutes later, she had cried herself to exhaustion and fell asleep.


	15. New Answers, New Questions

**Quick Author's Note: **Yay, finally an update within a decent timeframe! Hopefully you are all still enjoying the story, and I hope you enjoy this latest update. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated, so please feel free to write anything (it takes like 5 seconds and a mouse-click!), lol. Thanks for reading all, you guys rock!

_"All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them."_

-Gallileo

**New Answers, New Questions**

[Sarah's POV

Sarah's eyes shot open, and she jumped as a sudden crack of thunder rolled overhead.

_"Wait…thunder?"_, Sarah thought to herself, as she sat up in her bed and took in her surroundings.

Her pure white bed rested comfortably in the tan sand of a vast beach-line, and a large body of water stretched out before her. The waves were crashing rapidly against the shore, and the sky was overcast in a deep bluish-gray. Occasional streaks and flashes of lighting surrounded her, and there was a frequent, low rumbling of thunder to accompany them.

Sarah got to her feet and strode toward the raging crests of waves that came cascading up the shoreline, surrounding her legs from her ankles to above her knees.

"Some dream", Sarah said sarcastically, a little dismayed that she couldn't have, instead, found herself on a tropical beach sipping some fruity drink.

"I dunno. I find storms to be quite relaxing, to be honest", came a voice from behind Sarah, startling her and causing her to whip around.

There, sitting on the bed she had just vacated, was a man. He looked young from what she could tell, and had dark hair with some kind of red highlights—for lack of a better word—mixed in. He appeared to be a bit taller than her, and he was wearing a rather boring ensemble, consisting of a dark gray T-shirt, and matching colored pajama bottoms.

"Nice to finally meet you, Sarah", the man began with a smile.

"How do you know my name?", Sarah asked confused, as she had never seen this man in her life.

"Well…it's amazing the things you can pick up when no one thinks you're listening", the man answered skillfully, causing Sarah to frown slightly.

"Ok. How are you in my dream? Or, is this even a dream at all?", Sarah asked, a bit panicked.

"Oh yes", The man exclaimed, "this is most definitely a dream. You are still safely asleep in your bed, located in that cell they call your room, and you are certainly not in any immediate danger, so feel free to calm down a bit."

Feeling a bit more relieved, Sarah moved a bit closer to the bedside and spoke again.

"So", Sarah began slowly, "so…since this is a dream, none of this is real then?"

"Now, now, Sarah", the man scolded, jokingly, "with as much as you know about abilities now, I truly hope you don't find this to be _too_ out of the ordinary."

Smiling at his logic, Sarah nodded and responded, "I guess you're right, but why are you here then?"

"I actually wanted to finally meet you is all", the man answered simply.

"Well then", Sarah began, extending her hand with a smile, "Nice to meet you, I'm Sarah."

The man shook her hand back and replied, "I'm Ben."

With that, Ben got up and began to walk over to the water's edge where Sarah had stood before. Sarah followed him and waited, feeling as if he were going to speak again. Moments passed where he simply stared out at the raging seas, and the sounds of the howling wind and the rolling thunder created an almost serene and uplifting melody.

After a few moments, Ben cleared his throat to speak again.

"I only wish I could experience this for real again", he said with a rather somber tone, "it has been far too long."

Confused, Sarah stepped forward and stopped at his side. The strong waves whipped at her lower legs, but she ignored it as she replied.

"Ben, I don't understand", she began, "what exactly is going on?"

"You see, Sarah", he began slowly, "like you, I am a prisoner as well. In fact, my captors are the very same people that you became acquainted with a short while ago."

"You mean…you're here in the building with me?", Sarah asked, surprised at what she was hearing.

"Correct", Ben answered with a nod, "although, I'm in a much different place than you are currently."

"So…if you don't mind me asking, what is your actual power then?", Sarah asked curiously.

"Well", Ben began, almost nervously, "it's a bit complex to be answered that simply."

"I don't understand", Sarah stated, "I mean, you can enter people's dreams? Maybe you can manipulate them also?"

"I only wish it were that simple, Sarah", Ben said, sadly, "yet…never mind, it's a very complicated story.

"Please!", Sarah exclaimed, "I'm so tired of unanswered questions. Isn't there anything you can tell me?"

"Alright", Ben answered hastily, "For starters, I'll tell you that powers are not limited. They can develop and grow; sometimes very rapidly.

"Long story short", Ben continued, "my power started out small, and now it's…changed."

Sarah wasn't sure exactly what he meant, but she felt like she had an idea now. He must have originally had some power, and it had grown into this dream thing she was experiencing now. She wondered what it meant for her own abilities. Assuming they existed at all (which she believed was increasingly possible) perhaps hers could also grow to become even greater.

"Sarah", Ben began suddenly, "you know a man named Gabriel Gray, am I right?"

"Yeah", Sarah replied with a slight smile, "he's a good friend of mine."

The thought of Gabriel made her feel a bit better. She had been knocked out since her kidnapping, and hadn't thought of him until last night when she had cried herself to sleep. She only hoped he was okay, but she realized that he had probably been killed for trying to save her.

"He's one of the nicest people I've ever met", Sarah continued, "I just wish I knew if he was okay."

"Oh, he is", Ben replied reassuringly, "I recently visited him, just like I am with you."

"Oh, good", Sarah said, with a sigh of relief, "I was worried he may be hurt…or worse."

"Nope, he's fine for now", Ben answered simply, as he turned to Sarah and looked her in the eye.

"Can I ask why you were wondering if I knew him?", Sarah asked, curiously.

"I was just wondering, as I overheard his and your name when some of the company's people were nearby before", Ben answered, diverting his eyes to the sea once more.

Sarah stood as the ocean water pooled around her legs in a mildly-rough ebb and flow. Despite the stormy weather, she found it to be a very soothing setting, and she willed her dream to last just a little bit longer. The only thing that was bothering her was Ben. He seemed like a very nice guy, but there was something about him that she couldn't quite place. It was as if he was trying to hide something from her, but she couldn't figure out what it could be.

"Ben?", she began, a question having just crossed her mind, "can I ask something? It's bothering me."

"Sure", Ben answered with a nod.

"The man who controls wind…or air or whatever", she began, "he said that the old man that Gabriel and I were staying with actually worked for him."

"Ah, I was wondering if you'd remember that little detail", Ben answered with a smirk, "Indeed, that's true, the older man who picked you two up is in league with the company."

Sarah's eyes narrowed, and she felt a bit worried now.

"So", she began slowly, "what exactly is going to happen to Gabriel then?"

"Hmmm", Ben began, "well, he's still unconscious to tell you the truth. To be perfectly honest, it's barely been over a day since they came and kidnapped you."

"What?", Sarah asked, shocked, "how is that possible? Where is this place?"

"This facility is located in New York, actually", Ben answered, unfazed.

"Like I said", Sarah repeated, "how is that possible?"

Ben merely laughed and said, "Sarah, I thought we agreed that you weren't shocked about these things anymore.

"Naturally, another person who works for the company has a power that was able to transport you here. But please, don't ask me who or what that is, because I haven't been able to discern that yet."

"Ok, ok", Sarah agreed hastily, "But still, what is going to happen to Gabriel?"

"Well", Ben began, "I'm doing my best to keep the older man in his dream. That's another little trick of mine. I can keep people asleep as long as they have no real desire to escape their dream reality. Though, this old man has some surprisingly _odd_ fantasies needed to keep him entertained. I won't go into any detail, I promise."

A bit confused, yet slightly entertained by that previous notion, Sarah asked, "So, you're keeping the old man asleep, but for what reason?"

"To allow Gabriel time to recover, of course", Ben answered, "I've warned him that, the second he becomes conscious again, he needs to head out of that house and get to a safe place, where I'll be able to contact him again."

"Ok", Sarah replied, starting to understand a bit more now, "but, I have another question."

"Shoot", Ben answered jokingly.

"You can be affecting more than one person at once? Like, right now you're here with me, but also in that other guy's dream?", Sarah asked.

"Precisely!", Ben exclaimed, a bit eccentrically, "For instance, right now I am sending the doctor who runs rather painful tests on me each day through a very disturbing sequence of nightmares.

"And the kind woman who changes my sheets, clothes, and…does other duties for me each day, I am currently treating to a beautiful tropical-island-vacation-themed dream", he finished.

Sarah's eyebrows furrowed as she blurted out another question, "Umm…why does someone change your sheets and clothes for you?"

"No offense, but can't you do it yourself?", she asked politely.

Ben simply looked dumbstruck as Sarah's question dawned on him.

"Oh!", Ben exclaimed, as if a great realization had hit him, "I forgot to tell you, the company keeps me in a chemically-induced coma."

"Wh-what?", Sarah stammered, seemingly shocked at such a thing, "why would they do that?"

Ben merely sighed quietly and answered, "I suppose they just think I am dangerous."

"I'm…I'm sorry", Sarah replied sadly, but consolingly.

Ben merely turned his head and smiled at her, "It's not your fault. And don't worry, I think I have a plan."

"What plan do you-", Sarah began to ask, but stopped as she gasped at a sharp pain that ran up her right arm.

Ben suddenly looked a bit worried, and turned to face Sarah as he spoke.

"Looks like someone's trying to wake you up", he stated calmly.

Sarah merely gasped as another sharp pain shot through her abdomen. She doubled over in pain, and fell to her knees as the harsh water of the sea whipped around her.

Ben stepped toward her and spoke to her.

"Just go along with them for now Sarah", Ben stated, "I promise, I'll let you know more when I get another chance."

Sarah didn't have time to agree as a sudden violent wave crested above her head and plunged her into darkness.

When she next opened her eyes, Sarah noticed there was someone else moving frantically about the room.

As she sat up, she wiped the blurriness from her eyes, and recognized the man to be the dark-haired, dark-skinned man that she saw when she had woken up before.

She was about to open her mouth to speak, when he turned toward her and seized the opportunity first.

"Good, you're awake", he said hastily, "sorry about the shots. I was supposed to give them to you for your upcoming tests. I don't have very long, as they'll be coming to escort you to some testing room soon. My name is Mohinder Suresh, and I have some very important things to tell you."


	16. Frustration

**Quick Author's Note: **I decided to get another chapter out before the weekend began, because I will not be able to write again until Monday, as I'm heading out for the weekend and will not have access to the internet (I don't think, lol.) As always, hope you all enjoy the story, and feel free to leave me a comment/review/monetary gift (j/k) if you have anything to say. Thanks all!

_"How helpless we are, like netted birds, when we are caught by desire!"_

-Belva Plain

**Frustration**

[Sylar's POV

_"Wake up now, Gabriel, or you're dead!"_

Ben's words rang in his head as Sylar gasped and his eyes shot open. He was lying crumpled on the floor, and was covered in branches, leaves, and his clothes were pretty damp. He assumed it was because of the storm that had been raging when he was knocked out.

As his bearings returned to him, he suddenly remembered what was going on and sprang into action. Hobbling to his feet, he brushed the foliage off himself and staggered out of the room, into the hallway, and headed for the nearest exit he could find.

As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, he had only a moment to react before he was hit, hard, in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. As he collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, Sylar rolled onto his side and saw the old man standing above him with a wooden bat. As he advanced on him menacingly, the old man spoke.

"Where are ya goin' Gabe?", he asked mockingly, "I think we need to have a little chat, don't you?"

Sylar struggled to stand, but, with a simple wave of the old man's hand, he was thrown off of his feet by a sudden bulge in the earth beneath his feet. From what Sylar could ascertain, the old man had some kind of ability involving the earth. He had conjured up a large mound of earth and rock that had burst through the kitchen floor and sent him tumbling into a nearby cabinet.

"Not gonna be that easy, Gabriel", the man cooed with delight, "You see, I have a little ability myself. Impressive, isn't it?"

Sylar, though still in pain and mildly afraid, had to admit that the old man's power was certainly unexpected—if not completely fascinating. Sylar began to push himself back up with his arms, but was immediately punished with a tremendous blow to the back. It appeared that the man had walked forward as he was speaking and had struck Sylar with the bat once more.

As he gasped in pain yet again, Sylar clutched his back as he lay, twisted on the kitchen floor. And that was when he spotted it. Imprinted on the man's left forearm was that all-too-familiar tattoo; the tell-tale s-shape was unmistakable. What was it? He had seen it in multiple places thus far but what did it mean? And, while Sylar couldn't answer those particular questions, he knew that one thing was for certain. The mark meant that, as Ben had informed him, that the old man was indeed involved with the company.

"Now, Gabriel", the man spoke maliciously above him, "I think it's time to finish you for good."

Sylar felt the rage boil within him. Who was this old man to decide his fate? He was pathetic, feeble, and the only redeeming quality about him was his ability. He was nobody, and Sylar knew that it could not end like this. He may not have his powers, but he was still not an insignificant little blip like the man standing before him.

"Goodbye, Gabriel", the man hissed as he lifted the bat into a swinging motion.

"My name is SYLAR!", Sylar shouted as he kicked his leg hard, sweeping the old man off his feet.

With a loud and sickening thud, the man's head cracked against the floor, and he lay motionless. Sylar staggered to his feet and stood above the man. There was a pool of blood beneath his head, and he appeared to be dead. Sylar knelt over and examined the man more closely, and found that he had no pulse and was indeed dead. Moving the man's head out of the way, he instantly recognized what had killed him. What appeared to be a small, yet sharp, rock was protruding through the kitchen floor. It seemed the man had fallen and the rock had pierced his skull enough to kill him instantly, but not to go all the way through.

"How pathetic", Sylar laughed in realization, "killed by your own ability. What a futile existence; having an ability, yet never learning to use it properly. "

Sylar flipped the man over onto his stomach so the large gash in the man's head was now facing him.

"No problem", Sylar spoke viciously, "I'll use it better anyway."

With that, Sylar gave into his overpowering desire, and set to work examining the man. He worked rapidly, digging and scraping for any sign of just how it worked. The urge was overwhelming, and he searched frantically, hoping and willing that some solution would present itself; that he'd be given some sign. Yet, as the moment passed, the hope began to drift away as a new reality began to set back in. He was, wholly and completely, still powerless.

Sylar screamed as his anger and frustration boiled over and he backed away from the man, stumbling backward until he backed into the refrigerator. He was breathing rapidly, and he practically let out a whimper as he slid to the floor. His hands were covered in blood, and he was—despite being damp from before—dirty from the dirt and rock the man had conjured up before.

"Argh!", Sylar vented in frustration, "why can't I see it anymore? What's wrong?"

He felt utterly defeated. Here was a beautiful gift, free for the taking, and he could do nothing. It wasn't fair, what had happened to his powers? Why did he of all people have to suffer this curse? And most of all, when would the unanswered questions stop and the answers begin?

As the moments passed by, Sylar felt himself begin to calm down and rational thought began to seep back in. He moved toward the sink and cleaned off his hands, and then began to think about the other issues at hand. He felt as if, in failing to acquire the man's power, and realizing his continued powerlessness, he was a different person than he was moments ago. His desire for power was pushed to the back of his mind now, and he now focused on the issue at hand; finding Sarah.

Minutes later, Sylar had packed a backpack full of some spare clothes and had headed out the door of the house, and proceeded down the road. His goal was to find a secluded place, fall asleep, and get more information from Ben.

He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but he felt as if there were more to Ben than he let on. All he had really learned in his short dream was that he was being held prisoner in the same facility as Sarah, but he had no idea where that was. He had literally had mere minutes to speak with Ben—most of it spent with him warning Sylar to run the minute he woke up—and in only a small amount of time was Sylar able to ask any of the questions that plagued him.

Questions like: Why had they taken Sarah? Why did had Ben come to him in his dreams so often? What were his motives? _Where_ had they taken Sarah and, in effect, where was this "Ben" located? And better yet, why should he care about either of their well-being?

Sure, Sarah was a nice person and Sylar would even go as far as to call her a friend, but why did he feel an inexplicable urge to go and find her? He could very well just leave her to fend for herself and continue his quest to re-attain his powers. Part of him wanted nothing more than to do that. Yet, another part of him; an unfamiliar and increasingly-influencing part of him knew he had to go after her.

Sylar was pulled out of his inner-conflict as he spotted exactly what he was looking for. He had walked a significantly long way, and he saw, shielded significantly from view by foliage, a little shack buried in the thick of a forest to his right.

He proceeded toward it and noticed—though it was no surprise to him—that the tiny enclosure looked incredibly old and run-down. Regardless, it appeared to be a safe place, and he almost-certainly wouldn't be bothered by anyone overnight. He could continue on tomorrow if/when he learned more.

Peering around to make sure that no one was watching, he pulled the door to the shack open and proceeded in. It was even smaller on the inside than it had appeared on the outside, and there was an incredibly musty smell filling the tiny space. There was no bed, but Sylar didn't really care. He had brought a blanket, and he could always use a sweatshirt as a pillow if need be. The only thing in the entire shack was an oil lamp, a small wooden stool, and a window which technically wasn't _in_ the shack.

Sylar fumbled around near the lamp until he found matches, which he used to ignite the lamp—which thankfully still had some oil left in it. Grabbing the lamp, he set it on the stool and looked around at the room. The walls were all covered in dust as well, and the setting sun (he had regained consciousness in the early evening, and had been walking for almost an hour before he found the shack) cast an eerie, orange glow on the wall.

With the new source of light from the lamp, he did notice, however, that there was a large, dusty frame hanging on the wall. Grabbing the lamp, Sylar proceeded over to the picture and wiped away the dust so he could examine it.

It was a rather large painting encased in an ornate, but tarnished, gold frame. The picture itself was rather intricate as well. It depicted a large firebird, soaring upward from a pile of ashes with a beautiful trail of crimson-orange fire trailing in its wake. In the lower left-hand corner of the frame was a small plaque that read:

_"A birth by fire, a death by fire_

_Yet who of us can tell,_

_Is this a gift bestowed and cherished,_

_Or an eternity of hell?"_

-The Life and Death of the Phoenix (Bennu) Bird; Artist and quote source Unknown-

Sylar pondered in admiration for a moment, but turned away and set the lamp back down on the stool. Taking about the blanket he had packed, he lay it down on the floor and lay down. He didn't really feel that tired, but his only other alternative was to stay awake and do nothing. It took a long time for his eyes to start to feel heavy—long after the sun had finally set—but, eventually, Sylar found himself drifting off to sleep once more.


	17. The Learning Process

_"The beginning of knowledge is the discovery of something we do not understand."_

-Frank Herbert

**The Learning Process**

[Sarah's POV

"Wait, what's going on here?", Sarah asked, not sure what to think of this 'Mohinder' guy.

"Just please, I need to talk with you before-", Mohinder began urgently, but was cut off when the door swung open and revealed the man from before; the man who could control air.

"Ah, Mohinder, you're here!", the man exclaimed, almost too happily, "I was worried I'd have to go and seek you out. How fortunate."

"Actually, I was just prepping Sarah for the tests", Mohinder replied, looking a bit frustrated that he'd been interrupted, "and now I'm headed out to let you get to it."

"Oh but you see, that's just it. I'm not the one that is running the tests anymore, you are", the man replied matter-of-factly.

"That's impossible. I have to head out to bring in a new patient today", Mohinder retorted, sternly.

"Oh Mohinder, you needn't worry about that", the man replied with sick chuckle, "Bob has decided it would be better if I go. "

"But-", Mohinder began, but was cut off immediately.

"Honestly, Mohinder, there's no point in arguing about this. Bob has decided it, and I suggest you get to work. He'll be waiting for the results. Have a good day!", the man answered, and quickly strode back out of the room before Mohinder could say anything to protest.

For a moment, Mohinder stood in the middle of the room. He rubbed his temples with his fingertips as if to relieve frustration, and then let out a sigh and turned to Sarah.

"Alright then, follow me", he said, and walked out of the room with Sarah following closely behind.

Mohinder led the way down a long corridor, and Sarah followed closely behind. The hallways were all incredibly boring and, not surprisingly, they were all white. The floor was hard stone, and there were bits of gray flecks and speckles in it, but everything else from the walls to the doors that they passed were characteristically white. Mohinder walked briskly through the maze-like compound, and Sarah found it sickening that he had any idea where he currently was, and it disappointed her as she realized that escape was a very unviable option. And even more disheartening to her was the fact that the hallways were completely empty; they hadn't passed even one person the entire time. Then, as they rounded another corner, Mohinder stopped abruptly, opened a nearby door labeled '6277', and motioned for Sarah to enter.

Sarah entered the room and, to her delight, found it was different than the others. It had light blue walls, a large oak table in the center, upon which there was a large object covered in a white blanket, and there were two large, well-cushioned chairs on either side of the table. The floor was also covered in a very thick, dark-blue carpet, which felt soft and comfortable on Sarah's bare feet.

"Please, have a seat", Mohinder insisted, as he closed the door behind him and motioned toward the table.

As Sarah sat down, Mohinder proceeded to the opposite end of the room and retrieved what looked to be files from a large filing cabinet. Then, he proceeded back toward the table and sat down opposite Sarah.

"Alright then, let's get started", he began. "As I said before, my name is Mohinder Suresh. For today, I'll be conducting a few tests to see what—".

"Mohinder Suresh?", Sarah interrupted. "Are you related to Chandra Suresh?"

"Yes, he was my father", Mohinder answered with a nod, "How do you know about him?"

"That book…um… 'Activating Evolution'", Sarah answered.

"Ah, you read my father's book", Mohinder commented, "did you like it?"

"Oh yeah", Sarah replied, kindly, "I had no idea it was actually possible when I read it, but I found it really interesting to think about. Many of his theories are just…fascinating."

"Yes, well, it's a shame he didn't live long enough to see that his theories were right", Mohinder replied, a bit sadly.

"Oh", Sarah answered remorsefully, "I'm sorry."

Mohinder simply smiled back at her and replied, "It's alright, you didn't know. Alright then, are you ready to get started?"

Sarah nodded, a bit curious as to what was in store. She was genuinely interested to learn more about this power she apparently had, and wondered exactly what it would mean for her.

"Alright then", Mohinder began, "Sarah, meet Thumper."

With that, Mohinder reached across the table, grabbed the white blanket and pulled it off the object it was concealing, revealing a large cage with a white rabbit inside.

"Thumper huh? What an original name", Sarah joked, as she eyed the rabbit moving around the cage.

"Hey, don't look at me, I didn't name him", Mohinder laughed, as he opened the door of the cage.

"Alright then, Sarah", he continued, "the test is pretty straightforward. You see I've left the door open, but Thumper is really not interested in coming out. He's actually pretty afraid of people, to be honest.

"For starters, I'll fill you in a bit on what we expect you to be able to do so far. We think, based on extensive operation, that you can alter the moods of animals around you. Thus far, it's always been unintentional and they've merely acted on whatever you were feeling at the time. However, we believe the power goes much deeper than that.

"We know that mood is regulated by chemical processes in the brain, which are triggered by neuron signals. Consequentially, this could mean that you can control the very actions of the animal in question.

"Therefore, the first test I would like you to perform is a very simple one. I would like you to think of an event in which you felt happy; one in which you felt comfortable around another person or other persons. I hypothesize that this particular mood of feeling unafraid of people will trigger a similar mood and action in Thumper here", Mohinder finished.

"O..k..", Sarah answered slowly, "so just…think of a time when I felt comfortable? Like, when I felt safe or something?"'

"Exactly", Mohinder answered with a nod.

Sarah nodded, closed her eyes, and concentrated. What made her feel safe? Or comfortable for that matter? To be honest, Sarah had felt safety so rarely in the past weeks, and even now she was feeling rather insecure. There was really no chance of her getting out of this place. And what would happen when these tests were over? Would they simply discard her?

"Sarah?", Mohinder asked, interrupting her thoughts, "are you thinking of something? Have you tried a stronger thought, if so? I am not seeing anything yet."

"Oh…yeah…sorry, let me think of something else", Sarah answered with a lie.

Who the hell was this guy to expect something like this from her? She was tired, very hungry, feeling hopeless, and was even worrying about what had happened to Gabriel; there was nothing further from her mind than worrying about helping these…_kidnappers_ out. And that's when it hit her.

_"Gabriel!"_, she thought.

That night on the back of that semi trailer had probably been one of the most comfortable memories she had at the moment. She didn't know whether it had been the exhaustion, or the fact that, despite her self-reminders that she already Jason, she found herself liking Gabriel on an unexplainable level. Love was perhaps a bit too strong of a word, but she definitely cared for him enough that it bothered her. Yet, falling asleep on his shoulder that night had made her feel safer and happier than she could remember feeling in a long time—even with Jason.

"Sarah!", Mohinder exclaimed, causing her eyes to shoot open.

A bit startled at his sudden outburst, she nonetheless realized exactly what it was that had him excited. It appeared that Thumper had not only dared to escape his cage, but he was now scurrying around the table in a playful frenzy, completely unafraid of the two humans sitting on either side of him.

Sarah watched, wide-eyed and smiling, as she marveled at what she had apparently done. Not only that, but she now felt indescribably overjoyed. In fact, she suddenly found herself laughing uncontrollably as Thumper pounced onto Mohinder's lap and began making rather overzealous attempts at sniffing his face.

Mohinder grabbed the rabbit and gently placed it back inside the cage, closing the door so it couldn't hop back out. Then, he reached over the table and grabbed Sarah's hand with a look of concern on his face.

"Sarah?...Sarah?...SARAH!", he shouted, suddenly causing her to snap out of her fit of laughter.

She felt rather odd all of a sudden. The feeling of elation had simply vanished, and she had no idea _what_ she had found to be so funny about the situation. Subsequently, she now noticed that Thumper was no longer showing any sign of real emotion. On the contrary, he was now simply sitting back in a corner of the cage with his eyes closed.

Mohinder cleared his throat, catching Sarah's attention once more. "It seems that our suspicions were correct after all. Whatever you thought about, he definitely reacted as I had hoped."

Feeling a bit embarrassed at her behavior, Sarah asked quietly, "yeah…but…why was I acting so weird? It felt almost uncontrollable."

"Hmm…I suspect it likely has something to do with a connection you develop with the animal when using your powers.

"You see…it appears that your powers function in a way that puts you in-tune with the animal", Mohinder answered, a tone of excitement and enthusiasm in his voice.

"Alright then", Sarah replied puzzled, "but doesn't that mean that I don't really have control over this ability then?"

"Oh quite the contrary!", Mohinder answered in amazement, "With more practice and proper testing, I am almost positive that your ability can become completely one-sided.

"That's the point of these tests, and this was just the first one. We can try all sorts of things now. For instance, we could test if you can have a direct effect on them rather than indirect—meaning whether or not you can change its mood by simply telling it to do so. And later on, we could even see if you can issue specific commands. The possibilities really seem endless, and I don't usually encounter abilities with so much potential!", he mused.

"Ok, cool", Sarah answered, a bit apprehensive but curious nonetheless, "But first, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead", Mohinder answered, frantically writing notes with a clipboard in-hand.

"Before, when I woke up you were saying that you thought the…that guy with the wind power had made a big mistake", Sarah began, "what did you mean by that? Did it have something to do with me? Or Gabriel?"

Mohinder looked away from his notes at the mention of Gabriel's name, and stared Sarah in the eyes.

He remained silent for a few moments, and then cleared his throat again to speak.

"Oh…ha-ha, no", he answered with a laugh, "it wasn't anything like that…it was just…I was worried that you had been…harmed in some way and the experiments wouldn't be able to take place is all."

"Oh", Sarah answered quietly.

She pretended to let the subject drop, but knew that there was much more to the story than he was letting on.

"Alright then", Mohinder replied hastily, sounding excited once more, "ready to continue?"

Sarah nodded, and prepared herself for what she was asked to do next.


	18. For What Reason

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Sorry about the longer wait between these chapters. Thanksgiving break and school mid-terms had me pretty swamped. I hope you are all enjoying the story (as well as the show) still! I love the things that are happening on the show (mostly, though I had my issues with the most recent Ep.), because a lot of the events either fit what I had planned to do, or give me new ideas. Something Bob said 2 episodes ago, for example, is absolutely perfect for what I wanted to do, so I'll see if anyone gets it when it does happen, lol. Secondly, I'd like to thank those of you that have or are reviewing currently, as it really helps me to stay motivated to keep writing. Lastly, for those of you that watched the most recent Ep. (11/26), when watching Elle with her dad, my opinion of her kinda changed, and it reminded me of when my opinion about Sylar changed…perhaps I'll write a fic about her sometime. Anyway, thanks for the great comments, and keep them coming!

_"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear—but not absence of fear."_

_Mark Twain_

**For What Reason**

[Sylar's POV

"What the hell do you mean you can't help me?", Sylar practically shouted in anger.

He was sitting on a large, fallen tree that was situated in the middle of the high, plateau-like structure he was situated on. Put simply, he was positioned atop what appeared to be a large, cylinder-shaped rock, which stretched so high up that clouds surrounded the mass on all sides. Truthfully, this situation would normally have seemed odd had it not been for the other man that he was currently speaking with—or rather, yelling at.

"It's like I told you before, Gabriel, what am I supposed to do when I'm in a coma hundreds of miles away?", Ben replied nonchalantly, dangling his feet off of one of the edges and peering dangerously over.

"It's just that", Sylar started, "I don't see what you expect me to do when I'm…in my current situation."

Sylar hated to ever admit aloud that he was powerless, and the very thought of having to live a future as such was beginning to seem more and more a likely possibility.

"Honestly, Gabriel", Ben laughed, "do you honestly think your predicament is worse than mine?"

"You have no idea what I'm going through", Sylar spat hastily.

Ben got to his feet and strode near the edge of the cliff in a mocking manner, "Oh! I'm sorry, I must have forgotten! Poor, tortured Gabriel! Look at me, my powers are gone and I'm pathetic without them! What will I have to live for without senseless killing and pointless goals?

"Really, Gabriel", Ben continued with that sickening, condescending tone, "open your eyes look around for once, because it's sad if you think your problems are the worst this world has to offer."

Sylar didn't know what he felt when it came to Ben. He was arrogant, apparently quite self-centered, and usually never answered a question outright. Yet, Sylar knew that there was so much he could probably learn about him, and the best chance of getting his powers back was likely linked with him in some way. So, at least for now, he would have to at least try and help him.

"So what do you suggest I do then", Sylar asked bitterly.

"Hmm", Ben started, rubbing his chin in that 'I'm trying to think' way, "Well, let's recap first.

"You have no money, you're currently in Minnesota, which is definitely not very close to where you need to get, and, even if you manage to get here, you can't exactly walk into the Company without being noticed. Yup…I'd say you're in a pretty bad spot", Ben answered, once again jokingly.

Sylar sighed with frustration, and buried his face in his hands.

"You know", Sylar spoke, "here I am trying to make an effort to help you, and you're not even taking me seriously."

"Please, Gabriel—"

"And stop calling me Gabriel!", Sylar shouted, interrupting Ben in midsentence.

"Like I was saying, Gabriel", Ben answered, unfazed, "don't pretend as if you're angry because you want to help me. I'd say that saving Sarah and getting your powers back are much higher up on the list. Now, which one of those you consider more important is another question."

"Alright", Sylar replied, pretending to ignore Ben's last statement, "how about I hitchhike there then? Lord knows, I can be persuasive."

"This is true. Although, I think you'd be surprised how much one's confidence can drop when they aren't sure they'll be safe", Ben answered with a smirk.

"And what's that supposed to mean?", Sylar growled, standing to his feet and advancing toward Ben a few steps.

He was beginning to get very mad, and the frustration was just something he couldn't handle right now. He'd had enough of it in the past weeks, and he wasn't about to let some 19-year-old _kid_ make him feel inferior. His rage was nearing its boiling point, and Sylar wasn't too sure how much more he could take.

Ben merely rolled his eyes and continued tracing the edge of the cliff with his feet.

"What I mean, is that I suspect you're quite the coward without your powers to back you up. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Bastard", Sylar seethed, and lunged at Ben.

At that very instant, the entire cliff that they were standing on shook violently and Sylar was thrown off his feet.

Ben, however, seemingly unfazed simply took a few steps toward Sylar and spoke.

"Seriously Gabriel, you do remember this is _my_ dream world, right?", Ben laughed in disbelief.

Sylar merely shook his head, and pulled himself back up to a sitting position on the fallen tree.

Taking a few calming breaths, he spoke softly and tried to remain as calm as possible.

"Ben, can you please just tell me what I should do? I've tried offering ideas, and apparently they aren't good enough. And I know you have a plan, or you wouldn't have led me this far."

"There we go Gabe!", Ben exclaimed suddenly, making Sylar jump a bit, "I was just waiting for you to be polite about it! You even said please, I'm so proud; such a great first step! Oh I can't wait to see—".

"Alright, alright", Sylar interrupted, though he tried to remain calm now that he saw what it took, "what should I do?"

Ben strode—or, perhaps a better description is '_pranced_'--over Sylar and sat down on the log a few feet from him.

_"He really is rather odd"_, Sylar thought to himself.

"Alright then", Ben began, prompting Sylar to pay close attention, "here's the plan I have come up with. Although, I'm going to warn you…it could end up being quite painful for you. She can be…rather…over-zealous. Does this mean that much to you?"

"It does", Sylar replied, possibly for more reasons than one.

And, not even bothering to ask who 'she' was, Sylar listened to Ben's plan of what to do.

1.5 hours later

Sylar sat inconspicuously on a bench at the train station. He had a newspaper open in front of him, but he was keeping a close watch. He hadn't been there long, but the train was scheduled to be here in about five more minutes, but even now the seconds seem to tick by endlessly in anticipation.

He did, however, find observing the other people in the train station to be a truly enthralling experience. They simply went about their lives without a care in the world. How did they do it? Didn't they realize what they were missing out on?

Sylar thought it was truly pathetic that anyone could live lives like that.

_"I'd never want that"_, Sylar thought, reassuringly.

Then again, if they were so worse off, why were so many of them so much happier than he was? Could it actually be he that was missing out on some secret to a life of significance?

_"It's just because I lost my powers that I feel this way, that's all"_, Sylar thought, again trying to reassure himself.

He was thankful that his train of thought ended as his target came wheeling to a screeching halt into the station. Sylar folded his newspaper, and began to walk toward the train. He walked alongside it and headed for the back, which lead to one of the many entry/exit doors on the train, and where he needed to go.

He continued walking along the train, and continued even when he reached the end of the train and turned left into a hallway that led to the stairs to the street above. And that's when he saw her; the key component in Ben's plan.

Standing there, exactly as Ben said she would be, was a short blonde woman. Externally, she looked completely harmless. She was a tiny (well over a foot shorter than himself), and she was carrying absolutely no visible sign of a weapon. Yet, Ben had warned him that she was not to be taken lightly. Not to mention, Sylar knew well enough now that looks could be quite deceiving. Nevertheless, now was the time to act; he just hoped that this plan would work out.

Doing as Ben had instructed, Sylar picked up the pace until he was within hearing distance and he called out to the woman.

"Hey, Elle!", he shouted, causing the woman to turn around.

The expression on her face remained unchanged for a split second as she realized who she was looking at, and then a vicious grin spread across her face.

Sylar stepped a bit closer to her until he was mere feet away. Elle had her head cocked a bit to the side, and Sylar couldn't quite read the expression on her face. It seemed to be a mix between excitement, disbelief, and she definitely looked surprised to see Sylar standing before her.

"How's the company?", Sylar asked viciously.

"Great, so thoughtful of you to ask!", she exclaimed, though anyone could have sensed the immense sarcasm present in her voice.

"Although I must say, I'm shocked you know my name…I don't think you ever met me before. But I could never forget someone like…you", she replied, eyeing him with almost a hungry look in her eyes.

Sylar merely grinned, and suddenly lashed out to strike her…just as Ben had planned.

Elle ducked, and Sylar prepared to swing again when it hit him. The most excruciating pain he could imagine shot up his leg and spread up until everywhere on his body stung. When it stopped, Sylar crumpled to the ground and twitched a bit before he realized what had happened.

_"Electricity…nice, Ben"_, Sylar thought as he noticed how Ben had conveniently left that part out.

Elle bent down and stroked his forehead with her finger.

"Oh am I going to have fun with you", she snickered as she sent another round of jolts through his body for a few seconds.

Sylar panted and heaved as he lay on his side. He had prepared himself for a hard time, but he had no idea that _this_ was what it was going to take. But it didn't matter; whatever got him to New York.

As Sylar lay there, he suddenly heard the sound of a cell phone being dialed. Moments later, he heard Elle speaking to someone.

"Hi Daddy!", she exclaimed, excitedly. "No…Daddy I _know_ you said not to bother you, but I have really good news. Remember how Michael totally screwed up before? You know, when he kidnapped that Sarah chick and didn't realize that Gabriel Gray was actually Sylar? Alright Daddy, I'll get to the point! Anyway, guess who I have laying on the ground in front of me right now?!"

There was a slight pause as Elle awaited her dad's answer. Then suddenly, she spoke up again.

"No! God, daddy, I didn't kill him…I remembered what you told me before!", she practically screamed, causing Sylar to wonder exactly _what_ he had gotten himself into.

"Alright…alright…great, I'll take him there and wait then", Elle started, "I can't wait to show you daddy. I told you you could count on me! See ya soon!"

Elle walked back over to Sylar and peered down at him. He was still in pain from before, but he had a feeling it was about to get much worse.

"Well then, I think it's better if you just…sleep…through this next part", she said, as she smiled a fake smile and dug in her pocket.

As she pulled out a small black coin-purse, she bent down and waved what looked to be a small syringe in front of his face.

"You know, just in case I need to keep someone alive", she spoke, as she pulled the cap off the syringe and jabbed into his neck.

The prick was almost completely unnoticeable, which Sylar guessed had to do with the shock pain he still had lingering. Moments later, the shot took effect and Sylar felt himself drifting into unconsciousness.

**Post note: **Just in case you may not have caught it (which is understandable since I didn't update for a bit now), Michael is the name of the man with the wind powers that kidnapped Sarah before. Hope this clears it up if you were wondering who he even was, lol.


	19. Secrets

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Wow, wasn't the vol. 2 finale great? I loved a lot about it, and I really hope vol. 3 ends up being as good.As always, thanks so much for those of you that have commented. It is greatly appreciated, and really creates an even greater urge to keep pumping out chapters. Thanks to all the readers, and feel free to put in comments, suggestions, problems, or clarifications you may need. Other than that, hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

_"To him that you tell your secret you resign your liberty."_

-Anonymous

**Secrets**

[Sarah's POV.

Sarah let out a heavy sigh as she, elbows propped up on the table, rested her face in her hands. She was exhausted. They had been at their experiments for over four hours (according to the clock on the wall), and she had made very little progress.

The first two hours had resulted in no more progress than the first test, and even now she wasn't sure if anything had really changed. Thus far, she had only managed to slightly buffer the feedback effects she felt when her 'power' was active. More specifically, whenever she caused little Thumper to bounce around the room in a joyful frenzy—or, more recently, to thrash about wildly in his cage with rage—Sarah found that she, though not completely yet, could block the return effects she felt, and could concentrate more on how her power was affecting Thumper.

However, she was nowhere near the apparent potential Mohinder had hypothesized for her, and she was beginning to wonder if this was simply as far as she could go.

"I know you're tired Sarah", Mohinder began, taking note of her loud sigh of frustration, "but I promise, you'll only get better with practice."

"We've been _practicing_ for hours, Mohinder", Sarah shot back, a bit annoyed, "how much longer do you plan to keep me here?"

"Please", he urged gently, "just a bit longer. We're almost done for the day."

_"Lovely"_, thought Sarah, _"almost done for the __**day**__."_

As if she hadn't had enough already, she had tomorrow and perhaps many days of many months of this to look forward to. And really, what could come from this anyway? Sure, maybe her powers would develop and grow, but why did any of it matter if she'd have no reason to use them? She sure as hell wasn't getting her job back at the zoo after she had seemingly vanished without a word.

"So are you ready to continue?", Mohinder asked hopefully.

"Actually, I'd really rather not", Sarah admitted, causing Mohinder to frown.

"Sarah, it's imperative that I gather the data by—", he began, but was interrupted by the sudden ringing of his cell phone.

"Hello?", Mohinder answered.

"Yes…yes, we're nearly finished", he continued, while Sarah laid her head on the desk in exhaustion.

A few moments went by in which Sarah began to doze off to sleep. It was amazing how tired she felt, considering she had basically only been awake for about the duration of the tests so far. After all, Mohinder had been there when she woke up, and since then she'd been in these experiments. Yet, it was the continuous strain on her mind that seemed to be getting to her the most. It was a fatigue she had never experienced in her life, and she didn't know how much longer she could sit in this room trying to mentally coax a rabbit into doing what she wanted it to. Simply put, she didn't think there was any point to it.

"WHAT?!", Mohinder shouted into the phone, causing Sarah to snap awake, "You don't honestly think that is a good idea, do you?"

Sarah sat and listened in confusion, wondering what the call could be about.

"He what? No—no that can't be. What do you mean he just turned himself in? No, that can't be right?... Because that's just not something that—", Mohinder continued, but stopped abruptly when his eyes locked with Sarah's.

Turning away from her, he spoke in a quieter tone, causing Sarah to strain to hear him.

"If he did that then he must be up to something", Mohinder spoke into the phone.

There was an extended silence, in which Sarah presumed the caller must have been speaking, and then Mohinder spoke again, "I know what I said before, but when I said you shouldn't have left him there I mean you shouldn't have…," he paused once more and looked at Sarah, and then spoke so softly that Sarah couldn't hear, "I meant you shouldn't have left him alive."

Sarah wished she could have heard what he said, as the constant secrets were beginning to get very old. She did her best to strain and hear what Mohinder was saying, but she could really only pick up a few words here and there.

"I really don't see what purpose that could serve", Mohinder answered, furtively.

"Fine…fine, I'll do it the minute I'm finished with the tests here", he finished angrily, and flipped his cell phone shut ending the call.

He walked over and sat back down at the table, flipping through pages of notes to begin once more.

"What was that about?", Sarah asked blandly. She truly did not expect an answer, but her annoyance was to the point that she didn't care much.

"Oh, it was just a problem with another patient that Bob wants me to check on", Mohinder answered with the best false smile he could muster.

"Alright then", he continued, "I think maybe we should try a different approach this time. Instead of concentrating on certain emotions to trigger effects, perhaps we could try a different approach. This time, we could have you try to think of what you'd like Thumper to do and hope that he does it on command."

"Ugh..", Sarah sighed, "we tried that before Mohinder, and it didn't work. Honestly, what's the point of repeating failed tests and hoping for new results?"

"Sarah", Mohinder replied sternly, "I was going to add that you should issue the command _while_ thinking of what such an emotion means—what such an emotion could cause."

"I'm not sure if I understand exactly", Sarah replied, her tiredness clearly evident.

"Well, I'm trying to suggest that maybe you could somehow tap into what he is feeling, but be able to control it by issuing commands. Realize that I don't know exactly what you should do, because this science is so obscure. That's why these tests are so important, because they gather extremely valuable information, and that's what this company does. We help people."

"Ah, right. You help people by kidnapping them. So basically you can do whatever you want as long as it's for the greater good?", Sarah asked angrily.

"Sarah, could you please just try?", Mohinder asked, with a genuine tone of pleading in his voice.

Sarah sighed softly and nodded, as Mohinder took the rabbit out of the cage and placed him onto the table. She turned her eyes on Thumper and tried to will her thoughts into action. The strain mounted as the moments passed, and Sarah closed her eyes to concentrate even harder.

_"Just…move or something"_, she urged in her mind, trying to ignore the slight headache she was beginning to feel.

Yet, after a while of concentrating harder and harder, she noticed nothing. She felt no large-scale shift in the cosmos, no sudden merging of her and Thumper's minds; she felt nothing.

It was terrible. She was so exhausted that she felt about to fall out of her chair, and still nothing happened. The extent of her power seemed to be limited to a cheap imitation of a Siegfried and Roy show.

Sarah opened her eyes once more and stared at Thumper. The poor thing looked exactly as she felt—exhausted. Mohinder was currently holding onto him by the front legs and supporting him in a standing position, for reasons that Sarah wasn't quite sure of. Maybe he thought she was taking a break and was examining him?

_"Who knows?__",_Sarah thought to herself.

_"Why don't you just go to __sleep.__ Maybe if you refuse to get up then I won't have to stay either. C'mon, Thumper, do it for both of us", _she though, urging the rabbit to do the impossible.

And then, as if by some miracle her prayer had been answered, Thumper's back legs gave out and he slumped down onto the table.

Sarah jumped at the suddenness of it, and snapped out of her train of thought.

"What happened? Is he dead?", Sarah asked, letting her veterinary tendencies take over for a moment.

Mohinder shook his head, and scooped up the rabbit into his arms.

"No, he's still breathing", he replied, the fascination clearly noticeable in his voice. "Sarah, did you do that?", he asked her a bit anxiously.

"Do what?", Sarah asked, still a bit shocked at what she might have just done.

"He appears to be sleeping", Mohinder answered, "and I can't get him to wake up. Did you tell him to go to sleep?"

"No. I-I didn't", Sarah answered, trying her best to lie, "I was trying to make him do a back flip…actually."

Mohinder cocked an eyebrow at her, and immediately Sarah knew she had gone too far.

_"A __**back flip?!**__",_ she mentally screamed at herself, _"what the hell made you think he'd believe that?"_

"Well…maybe he was just tired", Mohinder answered finally, as he proceeded to place Thumper back in the cage and organize his notes. "We'll call it a day here, as you're looking very tired as well", he added.

"Thanks", Sarah replied with a smile and a nod, feeling relieved that he hadn't caught onto her lie.

"Alright then", he answered back, "follow me then."

Sarah nodded once more and followed Mohinder out of the room.

She was thankful to finally be getting out of there, and was quite ready to take a long rest in her bed when she got back. Still, however, she was a bit wary about having lied to Mohinder. Why had she done it? Would it really help to keep her possible progress a secret from him? Maybe if she could work these powers out a bit on her own, then she could do something to plan a way out of here. But how?

_"How could a mediocre, animal mind-control be of any use in getting out of here?__"_, she thought to herself, beginning to feel more and more helpless by the moment. Maybe Ben would have some answers for her when she went to sleep in just a few moments.

It wasn't until a few minutes of walking through the hallways that Sarah noticed something wasn't right. The walls were not the characteristic gray, but a deep blue now, and the floor was even carpeted with a thin, black material.

"Mohinder, where are we—", she began to ask, but was cut off as he came to an abrupt stop and held his hand up to silence her.

"I was instructed to bring you here instead of bring you back to your room", he answered seriously. "I won't be coming in with you, but you're free to go on in. I'll lock it behind you.", he finished, motioning with this hand to the door opposite them at the end of the hallway.

"O..K..", she answered slowly, "and what exactly am I here for?"

Mohinder pursed his lips and said, "to be honest, I'm not sure _why_ you're here. It seems completely pointless to me, but it's not my choice. All I know is that someone will be along to speak with you a bit later on. Now go ahead, and I hope to see you soon."

Sarah nodded, gave a weak smile, and proceeded toward the door. Taking a quick breath, she grabbed the knob, turned it, and pushed the door open slowly. She took a few steps into the dark room, and the door closed behind her and she heard the click of the lock. As she took another step, the automatic lights in the room sprang into life.

_"Finally"_, she thought to herself, and a moment later gasped.

"Gabriel!", she whispered and smiled, a feeling of relief coming over her.

There he was, alive and well, and she was so relieved to see him.

"Sarah", he said back, with a tone of near-disbelief in his voice, "what…how…why are you _here?_"

"I don't know", she laughed, taking a few steps closer to the bed he was sitting on, "I was just brought here, and they didn't tell me why." All of her feelings of worry were washing away with her as she spoke, and she almost felt a bit choked up just seeing him again.

"Interesting", he answered, "I don't know what they would want by bringing us together, but I thin—", he began, but was cut off abruptly as Sarah threw her arms around his neck and began sobbing.

The feeling of relief and happiness was too much that she just couldn't stand it anymore. She knew it was probably awkward for Gabriel, but she couldn't help it. She had spent nearly two months with this man now, and her feelings had only grown with each passing day. And truth be told, she had never felt like this around anyone—friend or otherwise.

When she broke apart their hug, she wiped her tears and laughed. He was still sitting down, and even with her standing, she was barely a head taller than him.

"Sorry", she laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed once more, "I was just…I was really worried is all. I thought they might have—".

"No, Sarah, it's alright", Gabriel urged, "I was worried about you too."

Sarah merely smiled, feeling happy for the first time in a long time.

"Oh!", she said suddenly, "you'll never guess what I found out today."

"What's that?", he asked her, as he scratched his cheek.

"Well…let's just say that I think I know why those dogs attacked those men. Or why those birds attacked that old man from the storm," she answered with a grin.

"What do you mean Sarah?", Gabriel asked, looking a bit confused.

"Gabriel. I think I have powers too!", she exclaimed, laughing at the thought.

Gabriel stood up slowly and looked at her.

"Really?", he asked inquisitively, looking a bit overly-intrigued now.

"Yeah! I'm not sure what all I can do yet, but so far I think I'm making progress", she replied, happy that he seemed excited about it too.

"That…great, Sarah", Gabriel replied, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Why don't you tell me all about it Sarah?", he asked, with a smirk.

And with that, Sarah began to spill out the events of the past day and a half.


End file.
